MOPPETS
by colakirk
Summary: Peter and El take into care, two little moppets in need of a good home. Warning: This fic contains spanking. Don't like, please don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This fic is currently being written to fill a prompt on The Fan Fiction Exchange Program (the-ff-exchange (dot) livejournal (dot) com). I've posted more chapters to this fic on that site and I will transfer them over as soon as I get a chance. In the meantime, if you want to read further, head on over and while you're there, why not consider leaving a trade request! It's a really great opportunity to have a fic written that you've been hoping to read! It's got me hooked! :)

**_Prompt: _**

**_Peter and El, married about a year, there have been some issues because El hasnt been able to consieve and they want children badly maybe El recently had a misscarage and they are working through the pain of it and the fact that they may never have kids, neither of them really wanting to continue to try and risk going through the pain of another misscarage (This part is optional of course) anyhoo... Peter is just promoted to the position he has now as head of team in the white collar unit... I dont know how but some how Peter comes across some street moppets picking pockets and pan handling, the little one, no more than 6- Curly ringlits of brown hair, big blue eyes and missing both front teeth has been causing heaps of trouble. Peter finds out that he is a run away from foster care, he was shuffled back and forth from a few to many unfit foster homes (no physical abuse please but niglect is a better option as to why he would run away... always goes hungry the foster parents punish him by taking away food what not.) Following the little one leads him to another child not much older maybe 9 with mousy brown hair and thick glasses, they were from the same foster home, they bonded and ran away together, the big one takes care of the little one teaches him how to make it on the street, that wasnt the first foster home he ran from and he spent some time making it as a street kid before being put back into a new home after being found. He is very protective of the little one even though he isnt quite so big himself. Anyway however Peter runs into them he does and somehow they wind up home with him. Both boys are a littke skimmish and scared, they dont have any good experiances with adults, the little one is always scared he wont be fed,maybe squerrles away food from meals just in case, the big one used to taking care of him maybe sneaks food from his plate onto the little ones... and then of course there is trouble, how could there not be with these 2? They run Peter and El in circles, neither used to school and dont like it not to mention other rules and maybe some shop lifting or curiousity about Peters gun (hey Id be scared of guns too if I got my bottom smacked for touching one!) Anyway, these two seem like an answer to Peter and El's prayers, they have wanted kids so bad and here are two in such need of good parents._**

**Warning: This fic contains spanking of a foster child. If you consider that to be of concern, please don't read any further.**

**MOPPETS**

Agent Peter Burke stroked his beautiful wife's arm as she lay stretched out sleeping peacefully on the sterile hospital bed. He was careful not to bump the IV taped to her hand, mindful of the value provided by the sedative being pumped through the clear plastic tube. He ran careful fingers through her luscious dark, wavy hair and swept a stray lock off her face. How had he how been so fortunate to end up with such an incredible woman? He loved her with his whole being and there wasn't anything in the world he wouldn't do for her, if he could. And there was the catch. Sadly, some things were not within his powers. Some things were kept cruelly out of his reach, beyond what money could buy, beyond what favours could provide, beyond what wishes and prayers were unable to answer. In their two years of marriage, this was Elizabeth's third miscarriage. He wouldn't allow there to be a fourth.

-W-C-

"El…El…El…" Peter gently shook the shoulder of his sleeping wife.

"Mmmm?"

"El. I'm leaving for work…. Remember you said you would come in for lunch."

"Yes, I didn't forget." Elizabeth rolled over and looked up at her husband while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Okay, well I'll see you around noon." Peter lifted his wife's fingers and planted a soft, tender kiss onto the back of her hand. "You have a good morning."

"You too."

-W-C-

Agent Burke spotted his wife across on the opposite footpath, sitting at their favourite corner table outside the little sidewalk café that had become a regular meeting spot for lunch from the very early days of their relationship. He jogged across the road and greeted El with a kiss. "Hi, sorry I'm late honey." Peter sat down while explaining. "I had my first departmental co-ordinators meeting this morning and it went far longer than I had envisioned."

El raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You started your new position today? For some reason I didn't think that began until next week."

"No. I moved into my new office this morning." Peter smiled while trying his best to use his 'no big deal voice.'

"Oh I'm so sorry honey. I… it slipped my mind. I should have done something special for you."

"You did El. That's why I asked you to come in for lunch."

"Oh. I didn't put two and two together. I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's fine hon. Look don't worry." Peter reached across and took his wife's hands. "You're here. You're out of the house. You look fantastic." El smiled lovingly at her husband. "Look, you're even smiling. Now what more could I ask for?"

The young woman gave a defeated sigh. "A lot more Peter. Certainly more than I am capable of offering. I don't know why you put up with…" El was cut short when the waitress arrived to take their order.

Peter went first. "I'll have the steak sandwich and a stubby of Corona, thanks."

"And for you ma'am?"

"Just a coffee thank you."

"El?" Peter was not going to let that go.

"I'm not all that hungry." El spoke quietly, hoping the waitress wouldn't notice the little disagreement.

Peter ignored his wife's rationale and addressed the young girl standing by their table. "Ah, would you add a ham and salad sandwich to that order thanks."

"No problem. Is that all?"

"Yes thank you."

The young waitress collected the menus and disappeared back inside.

"Peter, I'm not hungry and I don't need you deciding for me what I should or shouldn't eat." El sounded more deflated than angry.

"El, I don't care what you eat as long as it's food. Coffee does not a meal make." Peter looked caringly into his wife's eyes. "Look hon. Do you think you should go back and see your doctor? We don't want it to get like last time."

El gazed off into the distance. "It won't be like last time Peter. It's going to be okay."

Peter thought it was a good time to change the subject. He didn't want El regretting agreeing to come out for lunch. "Why don't you come in for a visit tomorrow and I'll show you my new office?"

"Is it nice?" El made an effort to sound enthusiastic.

"Yeah it's fantastic. There's heaps of space to spread out all my gear. My desk looks down over the bullpen so I can easily keep an eye on everyone from the comfort of my chair. There's plenty of room to hang photos of my beautiful wife, and best of all I have a great view out my window of the park across from the plaza. Hey, when you come in to visit maybe you could bring some sandwiches and we'll go sit in the park and I'll point out which one is my office?"

"That sounds like a great plan."

Peter kept chatting throughout lunch while El tried her best to appear in high spirits. It was emotionally draining on the agent's part but he would never let it show. Someone had to be strong. El had eaten half of her sandwich, and was struggling with the other half when she accidently knocked her handbag off the table and onto the concrete surface of the sidewalk. She reached down to pick it up but was beaten to it by a young boy who was walking by. He collected the bag from the germ infested ground and placed it carefully back onto the table top.

"Why thank you young man." The little kid smiled happily at Elizabeth. He was missing his two front teeth and looked around five years old. He was the cutest little character she'd ever laid eyes on. The young chap was wearing a child size fedora that was quite possibly being used, unsuccessfully, to control a thick mop of curly brown hair sticking out in all directions from under the hat. More hair swept down over his face. His feet were in shoes at least two sizes too big with shoe laces hanging everywhere and baggy socks that pooled at his ankles. He was wearing a short sleeve button down shirt that was not tucked into his long checked shorts, and a sweet little black bow tie sat crooked around his neck. His overall appearance was totally adorable but it was the eyes that really caught El's attention. They were the most brilliant blue she'd ever gazed into and while the smile on his face made them sparkle, there was also something else in his expression, something she couldn't put her finger on. The child lifted his bony little arm and gave her a friendly wave before travelling on his merry way.

"What a gorgeous little boy," El commented to Peter after the boy had stepped away.

"Yeah, just charming." Peter stood.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to follow your 'gorgeous little boy'. Sorry hon. Thanks for coming in for lunch." He leant down and gave her a loving kiss. "I won't be home too late."

"Peter? I'm confused." El couldn't explain the sudden departure.

The agent pointed in the direction of the young child. "Your little moppet just stole your purse."

"Hey?" El quickly scanned through her bag. Seeing that her purse was indeed missing she demanded, "Well why didn't you get it back while he was standing here?"

"Because the kid is stealing that for someone else. I'm going to follow him and then arrest whoever is callous enough to have a young child do his dirty work."

"Okay but watch out for the little one. I don't want him getting hurt."

"El. He just stole your purse."

"Yeah, fine but he probably needed it more than me anyway," El defended in the child's absence.

Peter rolled his eyes and discreetly headed off in the direction of the little street moppet.


	2. Chapter 2

Agent Peter Burke trailed covertly as the junior crim strolled merrily along several city blocks. The moppet was easily distracted, stopping several times along the way for various reasons, none of which put Peter in any better position to make an arrest. At one point the little chap stood in front of a bakery window, counting with his finger, the pastries lined up for display. Peter was growing impatient and was close to crossing the road to make 'the arrest' when the little boy finally dragged himself away from the tempting sweets and continued on his journey. Not too long after, he stopped at the end of a cluttered old alley that backed onto several eating establishments. The kid did a quick scan of the area before ducking down the deserted dumping ground. The alley was full of trash cans, empty boxes and a couple of large industrial dumpsters. Peter watched discretely from a distance as the tiny child tried without success to climb up onto one of the metal dumpsters. After several failed attempts, he reached under the back of his shirt and retrieved a familiar looking lilac coloured purse that was tucked between the waist of his shorts and his back. With careful aim, he tossed_ El's_ purse through an open window above the dumpster. Peter winched, hoping the expensive Italian leather had a gentle landing on the other side. Satisfied he had achieved his target, the small boy looked around till he found a box. He carried it over to the dumpster and used it as a stepping block. However, as he placed both feet onto the cardboard, the box gave way and the kid found himself crumbling to the ground. Not deterred, he stood up, brushed himself off and made another attempt to reach the summit of the dumpster, this time taking a run up. Regrettably, all this achieved was him crashing into the side of the metal bin with greater force, and once again, the kid found himself lying on the ground in a heap. Peter couldn't watch the disaster any longer. Taking out his badge, he marched over till he was standing above the young chap, holding up his ID while at the same time helping the little boy to his feet. The kid's eyes went wide with fear and he made a move to bolt. The agent knew it was coming and grabbed the kid's arm, holding firm till he could no longer feel resistance. Peter walked the boy over and stood him before the door adjacent to the dumpster. Knocking softly three times, he let go of the little one's arm and stood to the side, out of view of the key hole, just in case. A moment later, Peter heard movement inside, followed by the door being pulled open. A child about seven or eight began to issue a lecture without looking up as he was too busy studying the newly acquired Italian leather purse in his hot little hands. "You are going to have to learn to use the secret entrance at some point, kid." The inspection continued as did the worldly advice. "What if I'm out? How are…" he trailed off, finally deciding to throw a glance in direction of his young partner in crime. Standing behind, blocking the doorway, stood an imposing figure proudly wielding a law enforcement badge. The child with a shaggy mop of mousey brown hair, adjusted his thick rimmed glasses for a better look at the new arrival then studied the tiny photo tucked into the picture frame of the purse he was unfortunate enough to be holding. _Great._ The guy standing in his doorway was unbelievably the same man hugging a young woman adorning the picture inside the purse. The older boy grimaced. It was a regrettable match. _'Oh Neal what have you done now?'_ Mozzie pondered as he stepped aside allowing the guest to enter his humble abode.

"Afternoon, fellas. I'm Agent Peter Burke with the FBI." Peter held out his hand for the purse which was promptly returned to his possession. He placed the item securely into an inside pocket. "And whom might I have the pleasure of meeting?"

Neither boy spoke but the little one crept nervously across the floor till he was standing securely behind his older friend.

Peter sighed and took a notebook and pen out of his jacket pocket along with his cell. As he dialled, he took in the surrounds. The tiny room had probably been used as food storage for an adjacent restaurant at some point in the past. But that may have not been for some time. Paint was peeling off the walls, the window was missing its glass pane, fortunately the weather was warm, cobwebs in every corner and a grubby mattress taking up most of the floor space. Peter noticed for the first time, two freshly made sandwiches, sitting on a piece of ripped cardboard in the middle of the mattress. The agent swallowed a lump in his throat as he addressed the two young chaps who had backed silently into the opposite corner of the room. "Why don't you guys eat your lunch while I make a quick call?" He got no response as he stepped back outside, happy not to have to look at the heart wrenching sight of the youngsters digging into their uninteresting feast. He tucked away a wave of guilt as his call was answered.

"Macy. Hi. Can you meet me down off Eighteenth and Church Street behind Chang Mai. Can you bring a couple of empty boxes? No. One or two small ones will be plenty. Okay. Thanks." The agent pocketed his phone and thought how much he was going to miss his young probie when she took leave in less than a month. Macy had married a Maltese banker and Peter had been disappointed to learn they were going to try living in Malta for at least a year to test out which country suited the couple better. Agent Burke doubted he could find someone to fill Macy's shoes.

Stepping back into the room, cupboard, hole in the wall - none of the names described the space fittingly, Peter observed all remnants of lunch had disappeared. The two young boys sat silently on the mattress awaiting further instructions. Peter came and crouched down beside them, careful not to let his trouser pants make contact with the filthy floor. "You ready to tell me your names now?"

The older child brushed a clump of mousy brown hair away from his face and glared at the agent, "I shall tell you if only to avoid having you scan my retina for an ID. I'm Mozzie."

"Okay Mozzie but the FBI doesn't have retina scanners." Peter laughed at the insinuation.

The boy found that remark offensive. "You don't really expect us to believe that do you?"

"Uh, mmm, yeah." Peter didn't quite know how to respond so he redirected his questioning to the younger child. "And what's your name, little man?"

The young kid pulled his hat down over his face so Peter couldn't see his eyes.

"Hey I just need to know your name so I know who to contact."

"He won't speak to you. His name is Neal. And if you insist, Rachel Hammond is our case worker. She has all our details."

"Thank you Mozzie. Is there anyone else who shares this place with you?" The older boy shook his head. "Well, I'm sure Ms Hammond will be able to arrange a more pleasant sleeping arrangement for you two boys."

Neal reached out and grabbed Mozzie's hand with a death grip like hold upon hearing the statement and Peter considered after witnessing the instinctual action that this simple case of relocating a couple of delinquent street kids may possibly become more complicated than he initially expected.

Five minutes later, Macy arrived at the door holding two small packaging boxes. "Mozzie, Neal this is my friend Agent Macy. She's going to drive us all back to my office where you can wait while I contact Ms Hammond."

"Hello boys." The youngsters stared at the new arrival but neither boy replied to her kind greeting.

Peter took the boxes from his probie. "Okay boys. Here's a box for each of you. I want you to put anything in here you don't want to leave behind. You understand you won't be coming back here after we leave."

"We understand." Mozzie answered for both of them.

Peter placed the boxes on the ground and watched sadly as Mozzie collected a brand new pair of skate shoes from under the mattress and placed them in the box. The shoes still had the tags attached and appeared as though it would be a good couple of years before they fit the kid. The older boy also placed into the box the remaining loaf of multi-grain bread and an almost empty jar of peanut butter. He looked up at Peter when he was done announcing, "That's it."

"What about you Neal? Anything here you want to take?" Peter looked around thinking for sure there couldn't possibly be anything of value but the youngster reached down and picked up a well-worn bunny rug that would have been ready for the trash at least five years earlier.

"Oh, you won't be needing that old thing, young man." Peter made a move to remove the grungy item but stopped short when the little guy's eyes went wide with fear. "No? Fine. You can bring it with you if you like but we can get you a new blanket if you want."

"He'll keep the one he's got thank you anyway." Mozzie stepped in front of his friend in case the agent had any other great ideas.

With that, Peter picked up Mozzie's box and indicated the door. "Okay boys, let's go."

Mozzie took the smaller child's hand and together they followed Agent Macy back to the company car parked out on the street. Peter trailed close behind, half expecting them to make a run for it, but thankfully, both children climbed into the back of the car without issue. The agent carefully closed the car door and looked down through the window at the two little worried faces. Surely someone, somewhere was missing a couple of beautiful little boys.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey Rachel, how have you been?" Agent Burke greeted the welfare officer on the walkway outside his office, closing the door gently behind him. He had arranged for Agent Macy to sit with the two young boys in his office while he had a chat with his old friend, Rachel Hammond. Peter and Rachel had lived in the same block of flats years ago and their lives had managed to cross several times throughout the years, a prior occasion not more than six weeks ago when they were working together on a case involving an older foster child caught up in a forgeries scheme.

Rachel gave the agent a peck on his cheek, "Hi Petey. You've been well I hope."

"Yes not too bad at all thank you."

"Oh, congratulations on your promotion. This your new office?" Rachel indicated the room behind the glass wall. She saw a familiar pair of faces looking up at her from the floor and gave them a kindly wave. Mozzie reluctantly returned the greeting.

"Yes. I only moved in this morning."

"And look, you already have a couple of children working on breaking it in, ridding it of that stark office appearance. It'll have a homely feel before you know it. Petey, I'm impressed." The welfare officer grinned at her old friend.

"Funny Rachel." The agent leaned against the rails and crossed his arms. "So work's been good?"

"Busy. Way too busy. Every year…." Rachel trailed of in thought. "Pete, how's Elizabeth doing?"

"Yeah, as to be expected. She'll be fine, but that was our last go at it. The doctor said there was almost a ninety percent chance of the same thing happening if we were to try again."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, really. Got to move on, can't be feeling sorry for ourselves, not when there are always others far worse off than us." Peter looked down through the window at the two little moppets colouring in on the floor of his new office. Drawing paper and coloured pencils spread in all directions. Rachel was right, the office did have a homely feel now, something it was missing this morning. "Please, come on through to the conference room." The agent placed a gentle hand on Rachel's back and guided her into the adjacent room. He pulled out a chair for the young woman. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"No thank you Petey. I appreciate you giving me a call this afternoon and taking care of the boys till I was able to get some things sorted in the office."

"You're welcome. They've been no problem at all. So what's the story with the little guy? Can he talk?"

"He can speak. He's just chooses not to. He talks to Mozzie and well, I can sometimes get one or two words out of him but that just about pulls it up. And because he's never done much speaking, he has a fairly serious speech impediment for a six year old."

"He's six?"

"Almost six. Both boys are quite small for their age."

"How old is Mozzie?"

"He turned nine at the start of the year."

"Wow. I really thought he was much younger." The agent looked over in the direction of his office. "So I guess Rachel the big question is, why were they living in a hole in the wall?"

"Yeah, big question alright, with an even bigger answer. The boys ran away from their foster home just over two weeks ago."

"They've been on the street for two weeks?" Peter raised his eyebrows, shocked by that little snippet of information.

"It's not the first time, and certainly not the longest time they've been off the grid. Mozzie is extremely street wise…Both little chaps are high maintenance and have challenging needs."

Peter thought that sounded more like a way to describe a new pet rather that a couple of young children. "Why?"

Rachel took a deep breath. "Well for starters, they're a high flight risk. They have run away from their foster homes more times than I care to remember. Mozzie has social issues, he's incredibly bright, in fact they both are, but Mozzie is always thinking life is a conspiracy. That in itself is difficult for a foster parent to handle when their young charge believes there's always an ulterior motive behind any act of love."

"Well what about Neal? He looks like the type of child any parent would be happy to bundle up and take home."

"Neal's not without his own issues. He doesn't trust anyone but Mozzie. He's nervy and withdrawn, contributing to his lack of communication skills. Neal's father was killed when he was only two. His dad was a cop and there are a lot of suspect details surrounding his death. Two weeks later, Neal's mom drops him off at a homeless shelter and admits herself to a mental hospital under suicide watch. I remember the case well, it was my first day on this job. Neal was my first assignment. Later that week I went in to the hospital to have the young boy signed over as a ward of the state and found that his mom had split AMA. I've never been able to track her down. Neal was placed into a foster home where young Mozzie had been residing for over a year. It wasn't a great placement, but you know how it is, resources stretched to the limits?" Rachel waited for Peter to acknowledge the fact before continuing. "The foster mother was already looking after five other children, including Mozzie. Neal made six. Whenever I'd visit, the house always appeared like a zoo. Mozzie was picked on by the other children. Called him names, left him out. Told him he was strange. Mozzie and Neal latched on to each other and after Neal's third birthday was completely overlooked, the two little rascals ran away for the first time. We found them a couple of days later and I secured the boys an alternative placement so they didn't have to go back to the 'zoo.' But subsequent foster homes resulted in an array of issues eventuating in the boys forging a strong bond with each other and a fierce distrust of adults and older foster siblings. They became high flyers, that's our name for frequent runaways and every couple of months I find myself reopening their files working through their latest caper."

"Why did they run from their last home?"

"Don't know yet. Mozzie will no doubt tell me when I take him back to Juvenile Hall this afternoon. They've been with their current foster mom for over six months. She's an older lady with grandchildren of her own. She's part of a church group and taking on foster kids is her way of showing she's a good Christian. But in all honesty, she doesn't come across as a child-loving person. It's all very formal and there's not a lot of tender loving care."

"Then why on earth did you place the boys there, Rachel?"

"Petey, you have no idea. It's not like there are loving couples lined up outside my door putting their hands up to take on these challenging boys and girls. And don't tell me they're not challenging. Every child's file that ends up on my desk has some type of emotional or social issue attached. You don't get to be a foster child without there being an unpleasant past, either due to the child or due to their parents. Otherwise they'd be living in their own home, with their own mom and dad. The system is maxed out and sadly we don't have perfect solutions for the young boys and girls I work with. We take what we can get. So unless you are putting your hand up Petey, you've no right to criticize where I place these boys."

"Of course. I apologize Rachel…. Wait, did you say Juvenile Hall? You're taking them to a children's detention centre?"

"Yes. I don't have another placement ready for them. The foster mother whom they ran away from is not wanting them back so until I find another home, they will need to go to Juvie Hall."

"But isn't there another option? I mean surely someone can take them in while you look. Some type of emergency stand-by person?"

"We do allocate foster parents for emergency placements. Mostly we use them for babies that come into our care. But at present, there are no available places. Look, I really like the two little chaps sitting on the other side of the wall. I've grown very attached to them over the past four years. I'd take them home myself if I could but then I wouldn't be able to do my job and I feel like that is more of a priority with the thousands of children in care."

Peter released a deep sigh. "Fine. I'll take them home with me. Those youngsters are not spending the night in a detention centre."

"Oh Petey, that's very admirable of you to offer but without trying to sound offensive, you wouldn't know the first thing about handling a couple of young foster kids."

"Rachel, are you seriously telling me that the boys would be better off at Juvie Hall than in my own home with Elizabeth and I caring for them?"

"I'm not worried about the boys. They'll survive. They always do. I'm worried about you. I think those couple of little guys in there are quite capable of pushing you clearly over the edge."

"Is that a challenge Rachel?"

"No, of course not. I'm just pointing out the facts, Petey. But if you think you're up to it, I'm more than happy to send Mozzie and Neal home with you until I am able to make a more permanent arrangement. Do you need to check with Elizabeth first?"

"No, she'll enjoy pampering the boys for a couple of days…Rachel?"

"Yes Petey?"

"Did you just set me up?" The agent narrowed his eyes at the young woman. "You knew once you told me the boys would have to go to Juvie Hall that I'd insist on looking after them."

"Oh Petey. I would never," Rachel laughed. She reached into her bag and pulled out a file containing several official forms. "Would you mind reading through these and signing at the bottom of each page."

"Rachel…These forms already have my name and details inserted!"


	4. Chapter 4

Peter Burke pulled up outside his Brooklyn townhouse and looked in the rear view mirror. Two little faces stared back. Yep, they were still there. What on earth had he got himself into? He'd been going to ring El from the office but lost his nerve, not willing to take a chance that she may talk him out of it. It wouldn't have been a difficult task. He had so many doubts swirling through his head, El could have easily swayed him in the direction of handing the children back. So instead of calling, he thought he'd just arrive with the boys and once his wife took one look at the darling little faces, all doubt would be removed. Well that had been the plan. But now, parked outside his house, he was wishing he'd called ahead to give El the heads up. The agent picked up the two bags Rachel had sent over. B9 and B6. The bags were clearly marked. Rachel had explained her agency had pre-packed bags to issue to with every new placement. Many children were pulled from homes without an opportunity to collect personal belongings, other children didn't have any personal belongings to begin with. The bags contained pajamas, a set of clothes, underwear and a toothbrush. Enough to tide the child over for the night while more supplies could be arranged, usually through an allowance given to the foster parent. Even though the clothes were passed on from the Goodwill, they were checked for reasonable condition. Whether they fit was another story.

Peter opened the back door of the Taurus and the two little boys stepped out holding each others hand. Rachel had pointed out at the office that the boys were a package deal, and while technically not related, they were closer than most biological siblings.

"Where are we?" Mozzie looked around for a familiar landmark. He didn't recognize the dwellings in the street as being any of his previous foster homes.

The agent crouched down to the boys' eye level and spoke kindly. "This is my house. I live here with my wife Elizabeth and our puppy Satchmo. Rachel said it would be alright if you stayed here for a few days while she found a better foster home for you two to live in. You can come in and look around and if you don't want to stay, I'll give Rachel a call and we'll work something else out. What do you think of that plan Mozzie?"

Ignoring the question, the older boy asked, "You have a dog?" Peter nodded and the kid's eyes lit up through his thick glasses. "Can I see him please?" Peter nodded again.

"What about you Neal? Do you want to check out the house, see if it's okay with you to stay a couple of nights?"

"Yes, he'd like to investigate further." Mozzie answered for the little one who held the older kid's hand tight.

"Well I was actually asking Neal, Mozzie. I need to know if he's okay with it as well."

"It's fine. He told me." The response was given in a tone that said Peter should have known that already.

Peter smiled and tried again. "Neal, do you want to come inside?"

The little boy gave a convincing nod, almost losing the hat off his head in the process.

"Great, then let's come and meet Elizabeth, oh and Satchmo of course."

"Hey El, we're home."

"We?" El came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron as she walked. "Peter I didn't know you were bringing home a…" El stopped when she came into view and spotted the two youngsters standing in the middle of her living room. "Well hello again." She smiled at the cute little moppet from lunch before giving her husband the 'please explain quickly' look.

"El this is Mozzie and Neal. They've come to spend a couple of nights with us, if they like the look of the place, while a friend of theirs looks for a good place for them to live."

El looked back down at the two young boys. "Oh…well, how wonderful for Peter and I that you've come to join us for a little while." She was having a hard time getting her head around what was happening. "How are you both?"

"Where's Satchmo?" Mozzie came straight to the point, no need to beat around the bush.

"Uh, he's out on the back deck having a nap."

"Can I see him, ma'am?"

"Sure. Of course. Just head out the back door there." El pointed as she gave directions.

Mozzie took Neal's hand and dragged him out to the back patio leaving Peter alone with his wife. "I can't wait to hear this story, Peter. When I left you at lunch, you told me you were going after my purse. Seems you found it, got back the purse, got the boy attached to the purse and threw in an additional child just for good measure." El crossed her arms expecting a good explanation.

"Hey, you thought the little one was adorable at lunch."

"And he still is. The older boy is a charmer too with those oversized glasses and his direct approach! Mind you, they could both do with a shower and a change of clothes. What's with that filthy blanket the little one was holding?" El squinted up her nose a little.

"Listen El, the boys are foster children. They ran away from the home they were in two weeks ago. It was being run by some crabby old biddy. After I found the boys and took them back to my office, Rachel Hammond came to collect them and told me she'd have to put them into Juvenile Hall for a little while till she found a new home for the boys. I didn't want to see that happen so I volunteered to take them in for a few days."

"Are they brothers?" El was quickly warming up to the idea now that Peter had explained the situation.

"No, but they are a matching set…El, are you upset?"

"Upset? No, not at all. Concerned? Maybe a little."

"Concerned? They're nice little boys. I'm sure they won't be too much trouble." Peter indicated the back door where they could hear the boys playing with the dog.

El sighed. "I'm not concerned about that Peter. I'm just a feeling a little uneasy about how you and I will feel in a couple of days when we have to hand them back."

-W-C-

El had left Peter downstairs to finish up the dinner while she took care of cleaning up the boys. No way was she going to let them sit down at her dining table in their current state. "Okay, who wants to have the first shower?"

"Neal prefers to take a bath ma'am."

"Mozzie, please don't call me ma'am."

"I'm sorry Mrs Burke." The older boy dropped his head and began to study the carpet.

"Hey, no, please, call me Elizabeth."

"Okay." Mozzie followed El, Neal in tow, while she led the way to the bathroom.

"Alright, kiddo, why don't you jump in and have a shower first while Neal and I go into the room and sort out the bedding arrangements. Then I'll run you a bath for you sweetie." El addressed the little face peering over Mozzie's shoulder, trying to watch as she pulled out a couple of fresh towels from the cupboard. El passed one to Mozzie before taking the young one's hand and leading him into the guest bedroom. Almost forgetting, El called back, "Be sure to use lots of soap and give your hair a good shampoo."

El was putting fresh cases on the pillows, the little boy standing to the side studying her every move when Mozzie returned a few minutes later from his shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. "Your jammies are on the bed honey. I'm just going to help Neal with the bath."

Once she felt the water was the perfect temp, El turned off the faucet and smiled at the small child. "Okay Neal, your turn. Same as Mozzie, lots of soap and give those precious curls of yours a really good shampoo."

El returned to the guest bedroom and found Mozzie testing out the double bed. "What do you think Mozzie? Will it be okay for tonight? I'll get Peter to bring up a spare mattress from the basement for Neal to sleep on."

"Don't bother?"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't bother, ma'am?"

"No honey, I mean why not bother with the mattress?"

"Well, Neal will only end up sharing the bed with me the minute you turn off the light so I was just trying to save you the trouble."

"That was very thoughtful of you young man. You don't mind sharing with him?"

"Na. He's only little. He gets scared. It's no biggy for me."

"Neal's very lucky to have you, Mozzie."

The younger boy walked back into the room, dripping wet, his pajamas soaking up the water off his body as he went. The only part that was dry was his hair. El shook her head sympathetically, "Oh sweetie, you're all wet, plus you didn't wash your hair like I asked."

"Neal doesn't wash his hair," Mozzie announced from across the room.

"Well, Neal needs to wash his hair. I want to see how handsome he looks all freshened up and he can't look sparkly clean if there's peanut butter stuck to his curls." El took the little boy's hand and walked him back to the bathroom. The water was still in the bath, thank goodness. El's energy supplies were being depleted fast! She turned to the small child, not too sure how to proceed. "Okay Neal, you need to hop back in the bath and wash your hair. Would you like me to help you or should I wait outside?" The little boy responded by lifting his hands into the air and smiling at El through his missing front teeth. El took the gesture as the little guy giving his consent for her to help so she helped him out of his pajama shirt which was thrown straight into the clothes hamper. Next Neal put his hand on El's arm to balance himself while he stepped out of his pants which were also tossed into the hamper. The little chap climbed back into the bath while El retrieved a rubber shower hose from under the sink and attached it to the faucet. She began to sprinkle water over Neal's head, eliciting giggles and smiles from the bathtub. While El was distracted with giving the dark curls a thorough shampoo, Neal picked the shower hose out of the water and began to spray it in all directions. Needless to say, El got drenched, along with the rest of the bathroom. The young chap went wide-eyed and dropped the hose immediately. "Hey, Neal, I was wanting to take a shower. Now I won't need one," El chuckled. The little boy smiled once he realized he wasn't in strife and went back to enjoying his bath. "Close your eyes sweetie while I wash out the shampoo."

El pulled the plug and lifted the little boy out. Handing Neal a towel, she watched with amusement as he made a couple of dabs at his skin before dropping the towel on the tiled floor. El shook her head, picked it up and gently completed the task of removing all water droplets before giving his hair a thorough rub. "Now little one, let's find you something to wear, since your jammies are no longer an option."

-W-C-

Peter placed the dinner bowls into the middle of the table uncertain what to put on the boys' plates. He figured they could serve themselves. El walked in a minute later with both boys trailing closely behind. Mozzie was wearing a pair of grey/brown check flannel pajamas, the design more appropriate for an older retired gentleman. Neal was wearing one of El's shirts which served as a night gown. The shirt came way past his knees and the sleeves were just short of his wrists. He looked very cute with his dark curls brushed back off his face and tucked behind his ears.

"You kiddos hungry?" Peter pulled out a chair closest to the kitchen and then pushed out the one opposite, fully intending for the boys to sit facing each other. But Neal came and plonked himself down beside his friend and Mozzie reached over the table and picked up the place setting and arranged it in front of the smaller boy. Peter just shrugged and sat down, helping himself to a generous serve of meatballs and mashed potatoes.

El sat down at the far end, feeling much more comfortable having changed out of her wet attire. "Well, dig in. Help yourselves."

Neither boy made a move. They just sat staring at their empty plates.

El gave them a moment before offering, "Would you like me to serve you?"

Neither boy answered so El thought she'd better ask, "Do you like this food?" Maybe they were vegetarians, she hadn't considered that!

"I like meatballs," Mozzie replied proudly.

"Great, well… put some on your plate." Who knew that eating dinner could be such hard work?

Mozzie reached out and picked up one meatball with his hand and put it on his plate. "I also like mashed potatoes, can I have some of them as well?"

"Of course sweetheart, whatever you like. Please put whatever you want on your plate."

Mozzie reached out with his hand again but was stopped by Peter, who seized the boy's wrist when he realised the kid was going to grab a fist full of mashed potatoes with his fingers. "No!"

Mozzie reeled back in shock and jumped up in his spot, causing the dining chair to topple over onto the ground. "I knew it!" He screamed and with that, he stormed over into the living room and crawled in behind the couch.

Neal remained in his place, not having taken his eyes off his empty plate.

El glared wide-eyed at her husband who looked equally confused. Together, they made silent signals at each other before Peter, who obviously lost the round to a stronger opponent, reluctantly hopped up from his chair and made his way over to the agitated child. He crouched down and spoke softly. "Mozzie, what's wrong?"

"Mrs Burke set me up." The boy was on the verge of tears.

"Set you up? What are you talking about?"

"I know we're not allowed to just take what we want and put it on our plates but Mrs Burke told me I could."

"Who? Who told you that you couldn't? I don't understand. Mozzie, pretend for a minute that I've been in carbon freeze for the past five years and I've just thawed out in time for dinner tonight. What makes you think you can't help yourself to the food on the table? Elizabeth already told you it was okay."

"Mrs Jenkins said never to touch the serving dishes. We are only allowed to eat what's on our plate."

"Oh, but this is different. It's not like that here."

"Yeah, cept you said no as soon as I tried." Mozzie was clearly confused.

"Ah, listen kiddo. I know you had a nice shower upstairs and are feeling all germ free, but there's no way I'm eating any mashed potatoes once you've dug your sweaty little fingers through it. I was just stopping you long enough to pass you a serving spoon."

"Hmmh. Well how was I to know?"

"How were you to know? By not over-reacting for starters." Peter's tried to keep his tone light. "Next time ask and one of us will explain."

"Fine."

"Good. Now get your butt back to the table before El and Neal polish off all the meatballs."

Mozzie slowly made his way to his feet and headed back to the table. Peter stood the dining chair back up and as soon as the kid sat back down, he served up both boys a generous helping from the dishes on the table – something he should have done in the first place. This parenting thing sure had a steep learning curve!

-W-C-

El tucked the boys in under the plush comforter of the generous sized double bed after she'd sent them back to the bathroom three times to brush their teeth. "Now our bedroom is just down the hall. I'll leave the light on in the bathroom so you can see where you're going."

El was about to say goodnight when she suddenly remember something and ducked out of the room for a minute, returning with a plush toy. Sitting down on the younger boy's side of the bed, El held up the toy for inspection. "Neal sweetie, before Peter and I were married, we went for a holiday in Florida and he bought me this seal from SeaWorld. But I think the seal would like a new owner now. Do you think you'd like to be his new owner?"

Neal nodded and Elizabeth handed over the cuddly toy.

"What's his name?" inquired Mozzie from the other side of the bed.

"I'm not sure. I don't think he had one."

"You were his owner and you didn't give him a name?"

"That wasn't very considerate of me was it? What do you think would be a good name for this little sea creature, Mozzie?"

"Hmmm? How bout Sunny?"

"Oh that's perfect. Sunny Seal. Do you like that name Neal?"

The little boy smiled to show his approval.

"Neal sweetie. I know you don't feel like talking right now, but whenever you're ready I'd love to hear your beautiful voice. Night night little one." El leant down and kissed the little boy on his head before walking around to the other side of the bed and kissing the older child. "Goodnight Mozzie. Come and get me if you need anything through the night."

"Thanks…Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled at the older boy and walked over to the light switch. She was about to flick the switch when she noticed Neal holding up the seal and using the little flipper to wave. "Fankoo Wizzybif."


	5. Chapter 5

Peter rolled over in bed, his pleasant dream taking a sudden turn for the worse, developing into a rather annoying nightmare. Something was crawling in his ear! He rolled again, this time scratching at his ear as he went, but still in his dream, he was unable to rid the nuisance creature from nesting on the side of his head. No longer able to put up with the intrusion, he snapped himself out of his slumber and brushed at his itchy ear. In doing so, his hand came in contact with something spiky. Whiskers? He was only semi-conscious but still knew enough - he didn't own a cat! Peter opened up his eyes and was startled to see a fluffy white seal in his field of vision. _What the hell? _He sat up, noticing for the first time the little moppet standing holding his new cuddly toy as a barrier between the two of them.

"Neal? Are you okay?" He spoke softly as to not wake El.

The little boy shook his head.

"Are you sick?"

More shaking.

"Are you scared?"

Another shake.

"Do you want a drink of water? Are you looking for the bathroom."

No. Shake, shake, shake.

"Do you want me to take you back to bed?"

Nothing.

Peter checked out the time on the clock radio, 1:20am, before reaching behind him and nudging his wife's shoulder. "El, El, wake up." His priority had shifted and he no longer cared as much for his wife's beauty sleep as he did a minute ago.

"What's…what's going on?"

"El, it's Neal." Peter nodded to the boy standing beside the bed.

El sat up, pulling the comforter in close to ensure the warmth didn't escape. "Neal, sweetie, what's the matter? Tell me what's wrong?"

"I can't fwind my buggy wun."

"His what?" Peter hadn't got any of that.

"His buggy run. You can't find your buggy run?"...Neal nodded… "Oh you mean your bunny rug?" El showed relief at having interpreted the cryptic response. "I put that through the wash. Peter would you mind going down to the basement. It's still in the dryer." Peter grudgingly dragged himself out of the snug bed and headed into the hallway. "Neal honey, climb into bed with me till Peter gets back, keep warm."

"Sunny too?"

"Yes Sunny too."

Peter traipsed down two seats of stairs half blind, while his brain was still trying to register that he was no longer in dream land. While crossing the basement, he managed to stub his toe on a discarded tool box. "Far Out!" He hopped on one foot while the pain subsided in his toe. _Damn this rug better be worth it! _ El had suggested earlier in the night that the rug be thrown out. Fortunately Peter had insisted it just be washed till a replacement could be arranged. Heading back up the stairs with the treasure, his only saving grace was that it was lucky he didn't have an early start in the morning.

-W-C-

"Peter…Peter." It was El's turn to shake her husband's shoulder.

"Huh?" Hadn't he only just got back into bed a minute or two ago? What could possibly be wrong now?

"What's that noise?" El whispered.

"What noise?" Peter lifted his body and rested it on an elbow.

"That noise?" El cupped her ear in the direction of the hall.

"Ah…I don't know. I'll check it out in the morning." Peter lay back down, pulling the comforter till it was tucked under his chin.

"Peter, it is morning." El's unhappy face loomed over the top of his peaceful stature.

"El, it's only quarter to five!"

"Peter, please check it out now. You know I won't be able to relax till you've checked it out. Why delay the inevitable?"

"Why? Do you really need me to tell you why? Oh that's right, I already have! It's 4:45 in the middle of the night."

"Fine, be like that. I'll check it out." El huffed and made a move to climb out of bed.

Peter sighed deeply then groaned, "No, don't, it's not a problem. I'll go check it out."

"Thank you. And just for the record, it isn't the middle of the night. I can see the first sign of sunlight creeping through the blinds."

"Yes, you're right, my bad." The response was in no way sincere.

Peter traipsed down the stairs, yet again. He could hear 'El's noises' the minute he stepped out into the hallway. It didn't take a seasoned FBI investigator to work out who was responsible for the ruckus coming from his living room. He reached the bottom step and suddenly he was very much awake. _What on earth? _The living room looked like a construction zone. Chairs had been moved to make some type of tent/cubby between the lounge area and dining table. The comforter off the guest bed was providing a substantial roof for the makeshift dwelling. The 'buggy run' was spread out for what had obviously been a picnic. The picnic table, Peter's work briefcase still held a couple of left over peanut butter sandwiches. It went without saying that plates would be obsolete with such a fine leather table. The two water cups which Peter had placed beside the guest bed the night before were sitting on the ground. Well at least one was. The other had been knocked over and a pool of water was trailed across the polished wooden floor. Peter took his eyes off the disaster field and focused on 'the race' taking place in his living room. Two little moppets were chasing one excited puppy, round and round the book case. "Mozzie! Neal!" Neither heard. They were having way too much fun. Peter stood next to the book case and on the next pass around, he captured one little rascal, closely followed by his partner in crime. "Boys! Stop please."

Mozzie noticed the agent for the first time. "Oh, Peter. Did we wake you? We were trying to be quiet."

Peter took a deep breath, "Yes I can see that." _Not. _"But it's still the middle of the night. What are you boys doing out of bed?"

"We weren't tired anymore and we thought we'd come down here so we didn't disturb you and Elizabeth."

"Ah…Is that right? How very kind of you… You don't want to go back to bed?"

"Of course not. Why waste the day in bed?"

"Yeah…" _Plenty of reasons! _Peter rubbed his hands across his race being sure to check it still wasn't part of his bad 'whisker dream'. Hadn't that only been minutes ago? "Okay, are you boys hungry? Would you like me to make you breakfast?"

"We already ate but there's some left. Would you like one?" Mozzie indicated the left over peanut butter sandwiches sitting on Peter's briefcase.

"Ah…no…I'm not that hungry either. Think I'll wait for El and we'll have breakfast in a couple of hours." Peter flopped down on the couch and pulled a cushion over his head.

"Okay. I'll just save these for tomorrow." Mozzie wasn't bothered.

Peter sneaked a peak from under the cushion and the last sight he saw before he closed his eyes was Satchmo drinking out of the remaining plastic cup, resting on the floor of the 'tent'!

-W-C-

"Thought I'd take the boys shopping this afternoon, get them another set of pajamas and a few sets of play clothes." El placed a large cup of coffee on to the table under Peter's nose. It wasn't his first for the morning, certainly wouldn't be the last. The moppets had been chased outside with the puppy while El and Peter returned the living area to a respectable condition.

"You don't want to wait to see what Rachel comes back with today. She may have a placement available when I speak to her later."

El stopped sipping her coffee and placed it down on the table. "Uh, no we'll still go shopping regardless. Besides, it'll be nice for the boys to have a couple of flash shirts and pants to take with them when they leave."

Despite the rough start to the morning, neither Peter or El looked overly happy with the idea of sending the boys on their merry way.

-W-C-

"Hey guys, how was your…" Peter trailed off at the sight on the bedroom floor. Mozzie, Neal and Sunny were sitting round three family sized packets of jelly lollies. _What the? _"Hey does Elizabeth know you're up here guzzling down bags of sugar?" From the look on their faces, El was clueless. "Well I think you've had quite enough. You won't be able to eat your dinner. It's almost ready." Peter collected the contraband and took it back down to the kitchen.

"El, if you're going to bring an entire sweet factory into our house, you'll to have to keep it under lock and key till at least after dinner." Peter placed the confiscated treats onto the bench.

"We'd all that come from?"

"You? Didn't you pick these up when you went shopping today with the boys?"

"Hardly. Do you think I want to be making an emergency dash to the dentist in the middle of the night?"

-W-C-

Two guilty faces sat on the couch while Peter paced the living room floor.

"Peter, sit down. You're making them nervous," El whispered in her husband's ear.

Peter huffed and sat down on the coffee table, not wanting to have to deal with a third party.

"Why did you steal the bags of sweets from the shop?"

"We don't know." Mozzie shrugged.

"I can't understand boys. Were you hungry? Did you know that stealing them is considered shop-lifting?"

Peter was rewarded with two blank stares so El stepped in, thinking she'd give it a go since her husband was getting nowhere, fast. "Neal honey, why did you steal the lollies?"

"Cause tay aw yummy, Wizzybif."

Peter scoffed, "Well that's okay then." He stared at the older boy. "Why didn't you just say so Mozzie?"

Peter's sarcasm was lost on the older child. "Cause I thought you'd be mad. But now that I know you're not, I should have just told you straight up."

El looked at Peter who just rolled his eyes. Okay, add that to the list - sarcasm and children don't mix. "No I'm not mad Mozzie, but I am disappointed. You don't need to steal. If you need something, just ask for it. Obviously we're not going to buy you a bucket load of candy but if you would like a special treat, please tell us…You know that stealing is wrong?"

"Yes, sir."

"Plus it's breaking the law. What you and Neal did today is a criminal offence? I don't want you to do it anymore."

"Yes, sir."

"Good, because if you do it again, I'll have to punish you both." Peter knew El was glaring at him so he just remained focused on the boys. "Okay. Go get cleaned up for dinner."

-W-C-

Three days later, El was stacking the boys' clean washing away in the dresser when she discovered a mysterious stash of food. Four stale dinner rolls, two carrots, a handful of nuts, a half eaten muesli bar and an empty jar of plum jam El clearly remembered having tossed in the trash. Totally confused, she enlisted the assistance of the resident investigative agent who promptly rounded up the two suspects.

"You said if we stole again we'd be punished." Mozzie declared through the stray locks that were obscuring his view.

Peter pointed to the evidence which had remained where it was discovered in the bottom drawer. "But what does that have to do with this collection of food. We don't understand."

"It's for a rainy day. Just in case we…you know?"

"No I don't. In fact I have no idea."

"What if we forget? What if one of us accidently forgets and well, slips up and accidently steals again?" He peered at the agent through a set of thick lenses.

"Then you'll be punished. But what could that possibly have to do with you storing food supplies. You planning on hibernating for the winter?"

"No. But we don't know how long you'll make us go without food if we, for some unfathomable reason, take something that doesn't belong to us."

"Go without food? Why would we make you go without food?" Peter was getting that tension headache back again. The same one he'd had on and off over the past couple of days.

"Well you said you would punish us and that's how Mrs Jenkins used to punish us. Depending on what we did would depend on how long we would go without food."

"Oh sweetheart. We would never do that to you or Neal." El wrapped her arm around the mixed-up child. "In fact, I won't be very happy if you don't eat. You boys are way too skinny as it is. There'll be no nonsense about not eating in this house."

"In that case, what did you mean then when you said you would punish us if we ever stole again?"

El glared at her husband, not feeling overly comfortable with the reply she knew was coming.

Peter spoke slowly. "If I have to punish you for something like stealing, I will take you over my knee and give you a spanking on your butt."

Mozzie gasped and turned a shade whiter. "Any chance we can just go with the food punishment?"

"No chance. Do you understand now?"

"Yes Peter. Bottom line, don't steal or the bottom gets it."

"That's right. What about you Neal, do you understand?"

The little boy squeezed his cuddly seal tight and nodded.

"Neal, I need you to tell me you understand."

The little chap taped the agent's hand that was resting on his leg then point to his backside.

"That's right, buddy. My hand on your butt. So you do understand?"

"Yes Pweter I doo."


	6. Chapter 6

Ms Rachel Hammond stopped in the doorway to Agent Burke's office and smiled. The man was just adorable. Why hadn't she seen it all those years ago and staked her claim? Oh well, it wasn't to be. Rachel walked over and placed the super sized cappuccino on the desk next to the sleeping agent. Peter must have smelt the caffeine because he stood up immediately and wiped at his face. "Oh, hi."

"Petey, surely you're not bored of this job already. Not enough excitement, all the long uneventful days putting you to sleep?"

"If only it were true. Good to see you Rachel." Peter leaned over his desk and kissed Rachel on the cheek. "Please sit down. Thanks for the coffee."

"You're welcome. How you holding up, as if the sleeping on the job and the huge bags under each eye don't speak volumes already."

"Yeah, well, you see I…"

"Had a bit of a rough night?" Rachel guessed.

"Ah, you have no idea." Peter took a long swig of the coffee. "Mozzie misplaced his glasses and we pulled the place apart looking for them. You know that old saying, 'It's usually in the first place you look'?"

Rachel shrugged, not really familiar. "Maybe?"

"Well, it's not true."

"You didn't find them?"

"Yeah, we found them, in the last place we looked. Of course we never would have found them earlier, the load hadn't finished the spin dry cycle. Don't know how they got in the machine, just one of those mysteries like…"

"Amelia Earhart?"

"Just like that."

"So Mozzie needs new glasses?"

"No, glasses were fine. Better than fine. Looked sparkly new. Something to be said for Oxypowder, EveryTime washing powder!"

"And all this led to a late night and you know, the caffeine drip." Rachel pointed to the several empty coffee cups in the trash.

"Ah, Rachel, if only it had been that carefree. Missing glasses, huh, a drop in the ocean to…"

"What did young Neal do?"

Peter had one gigantic sigh. "He accidently emptied the tomato sauce bottle all over the cable remote and we were unable to access the sport's channels. The cable guy is coming over sometime today to replace it."

"Well wouldn't that mean you actually got to bed earlier?"

"Oh you were asking what Neal did to lead these toothpicks that are holding my eyelids open?"

Rachel nodded. "Well…"

"Satchmo ate Neal's buggy run." Peter shrugged like it was no big deal.

"His buggy run?"

"Yeah, you know, his buggy run. Surely you know what a buggy run is?"

"No idea."

"And you call yourself a welfare officer! Anyway, Satchmo pulled it to pieces. Totally beyond repair. The little guy had a meltdown. Wouldn't sleep, wouldn't even get into bed. El and I pulled out every sleeping blanket, comforter, shawl we could put our hands on, some blankets we never even knew we had. Still he wouldn't sleep. Even Sunny wouldn't stem the tears."

"Sunny?"

"Yeah, Sunny Seal. Eventually we sat in our bed with the little guy and began reading him stories to get his mind off it. We took turns but there's only so many Little Golden Books you can read before you want to gouge your eyes out! Finally Neal fell asleep but every time I lifted him, he'd wake up and we'd have to read another story. So we just thought he could sleep in our bed. Not the end of the world. Of course Mozzie wasn't too happy with that plan. Said if Neal woke up and saw he was missing, he might freak out, so now we have Mozzie in our bed as well."

"And you thought you'd get a much better deal in the other room?"

"In my defence I did give it try. Didn't walk out on El the minute she closed her eyes. I stuck with it for a good couple of hours but between the knees in my back and the whiskers in my ear, I gave into temptation and retreated to the boys' room in the early hours of this morning. Can't say I slept all that well snuggled between the Mr Men sheets."

"Not to worry Petey. The cable guy will have been by the time you get home and we both know that's all you really lost any sleep over."

Peter opened his mouth to object, but this was Rachel and she would just see straight through a lie. Time for a change of subject. "I see you've got the file again. Hope it's a better suggestion than you gave during your call last week."

"I didn't see what the problem was. The Taylors are good foster parents. The boys know them, they've got a lot of room."

"And they know they can easily run away whenever they want. What would this be? A fifth escape?"

"No fourth. They only absconded three times while in their care. But I already explained, the older foster child is no longer with them."

"I remember, he's serving time in Juvenile Detention."

"Okay, moving right along." Rachel slid the folder across the desk. "The Bentleys. Jeff is an investment banker. Erika is a stay at home mom. They have a beautiful two year daughter."

"And…?"

"And what?"

"And what's the reason for the hesitancy in your voice?"

"There's no hes…Fine, they currently have six week old twins in their care till their mother works her way through a detox clinic."

"So the twins were born substance dependent?"

"Uuuuh, yes."

"And the parents are also looking after a two year old."

Rachel nodded.

Peter closed the folder and slid it back. "No."

"No? Petey, I wasn't asking for your opinion. I have a family ready to take the boys in."

"Nope."

"So, what. You've vetoed another perfectly fine foster family? You're going to what, hold onto the boys till I find…what exactly?"

"Something better then one terrible two and a set of screaming infants."

"Okkaay Dokay. And in the meantime?"

"El and I are more than happy to continue with the current arrangement."

"Despite the chronic sleep deprivation?"

"Which was nothing to do with the boys."

Rachel raised her eyebrows.

"Cable remote broke remember? But that's all fixed now so tonight I'm going to sleep like a baby."

Neither of them believed that for a second, but it was said out loud, which made it real, if only for a short moment in time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note**: Translations that may be required to interpret a couple of terms used in the last chapters:- Jelly Lollies are most likely the equivalent of Gummy Lollies and a Bunny Rug is a small blanket given to a young child or baby. Cheers :)

-W-C-

Peter practically inhaled the coffee Elizabeth handed him before she headed out the door. It was Saturday and the agent found himself staring at the weekend paper, his usual enthusiasm for reading the sport's section and challenging himself with a crossword seemed too much like hard work this morning. Elizabeth had gone out to check the suitability of a couple of vacant shops. She'd decided through the week to get up off her butt and back on the saddle of life. The little boys under her care allowed no time for self-pity and the spirited vibe they brought into the house, along with a sudden shift in focus from her, to caring for two individuals in far greater need of support, turned out to be the perfect remedy for her depression. El's new business venture, Burke Premier Events, had been on the drawing board for some time and she decided to finally make a productive start by getting a feel for the monthly rental expenses and to basically see what was out there. Peter had been left full baby sitting duties with clear instructions not to let the boys destroy the house.

The agent studied the two little chaps running around the living room playing with Satchmo. Mozzie was building a tunnel out of the aging books he'd pulled from the shelf, Neal was jumping on and off the couch, trying to teach the puppy how to get up onto the comfy chair. _Unbelievable!_ El had been gone all of five minutes and the boys were well underway in their destruction of the house! "Boys!" Both Mozzie and Neal spun round and froze at the authoritative tone. Satchmo made one last attempt at climbing onto the couch before trotting off to the back door for a drink. Neal slid off the edge of chair, trying unsuccessfully to go unnoticed. Peter gave him a pointed look, letting the little boy know that he had indeed been caught out jumping all over the furniture.

Peter walked over and took a seat on the arm chair, waving with his hand for the boys to join him. Neal came and sat on his knee, Mozzie perched himself on the arm of the chair. "Okay fellas, how about the three of us go somewhere today, for a treat." _And to you know, preserve the house till El gets back!_

"Yah!" Mozzie cheered while Neal gave a big toothless grin.

"Well…Any ideas?"

Mozzie removed his glasses so he could think clearer. "Hmmm. What about the supermarket. Elizabeth took us earlier in the week and she bought us a bag of caramel filled chocolate Kisses."

"Yeah, not what I had in mind, besides, we don't need any more groceries today and you boys don't need any more sugar. El did a big shop already. Isn't there somewhere in the city you enjoy going? Maybe the movies, Central Park, the zoo?"

"How about the Science Center?" The older boy jumped off the chair and began using his arms to help express his words. "I went there once a long time ago and it was really awesome!"

"Perfect. And how about you Neal? Where would you like to go?"

"He'd like to go to the Art Gallery. It's right next…"

"Actually, Mozzie. I was asking Neal. Where would you like to go little man?"

The young boy gave Peter a dazzling smile but didn't open his mouth.

"Nowhere? Okay, if you change your mind, let me know." The little chap dropped his smile and let his shoulders sag. Peter ignored the pitiful look, with difficulty and continued with the instructions. "Right, first let's clean up this mess before El comes home unexpectedly and then we'll all be in hot water. As soon as it's back to normal, you two run upstairs and get dressed in your going out clothes."

-W-C-

The going out clothes turned out to be more suitable attire for a wedding. Neal wore a navy blue button down check shirt, a plain black vest with the little black bowtie he was wearing the day they met, a pair of smart casual cotton pants and his trademark Fedora. Peter was grateful for the Fedora as he'd had no idea what to do with the mop of curls that went every which way on Neal's little head. He realised way too late that he should have asked El to brush the scruffy mop before she left. Where would you even begin with a tangled mess like that? The little boy had on his new black lace-ups and carried his favourite friend under his arm. Of course Sunny was a given. Neal no longer went anywhere without the cuddly toy.

Mozzie's outfit was equally overdone for a visit to the Science Center. He was wearing a flamboyant orange shirt with a paisley print design, black dress pants and a brand new pair of skate shoes. El had bought them for the kid after he'd proudly shown her the pair under his bed, the ones with the security tag still attached, the ones that were several sizes too big, the ones he couldn't wait to fit into. El had managed to find the exact same shoe at the local shopping mall, only these ones were a perfect fit. The boy was also wearing an assortment of bands and bracelets around both wrists and an unusual material necklace to complement the look. Peter rolled his eyes but at the same time had been thankful that the kid had made a half-decent attempt to comb his hair.

-W-C-

The FBI Agent and two well dressed youngsters walked out of the Science Center a couple of hours later after trying out every exhibit the Center had to offer. Peter was mentally exhausted. Mozzie had disputed pretty much every scientific theory and concept presented throughout the various sections.

Peter looked down at the younger boy holding his hand. "Anywhere else we can go while we're in the area?"

"Yeah, the..."

"No Mozzie, you've had a turn. Anywhere you'd like to go Neal?"

The little boy pointed at the large sign behind them – ART GALLERY.

Peter feigned ignorance. "Where, the bus stop?"

Neal shook his head.

"No, the snack bar?"

The little guy pointed again.

"No, the…"

Neal took a deep breath. "Ta… aw… g, ta…aw…gal…" He pulled his hat down over his eyes to cover the disappointment. "Wusent matter."

"Yes, it does matter Neal." Peter pushed back the hat and crouched down next to the boy. "Art…"

"Awt."

"Gal…"

"Gal."

"Ery..."

"Ewy."

"Oh, the Art Gallery. Why that's a great idea, and look, it's right next door to the Science Center." Both Mozzie and Neal grinned at the pretend revelation. "Let's go!"

-W-C-

"Neal…Neal…Neal!" _Where is that kid?_ Peter spun in every direction but no Fedora and no Sunny. A minute ago they'd all been staring at the Contemporary African Mask exhibit. Now Peter was minus one child and it felt bone numbing.

"Mozzie did you see which direction Neal went?"

"No, but hey don't sweat it. The little guy can take care of himself." The older boy leaned against a pole looking more bored than worried.

Peter wasn't listening. His eyes were frantically darting in all directions, working out where to begin his search. He ran his hands through his hair before turning to the nine year old and asking in a more desperate tone, "Where would Neal go?"

Mozzie shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at some invisible spot on the ground. "Neal loves coming here. He likes the sculpture garden on the roof the best. But there's no need to worry. I would sometimes drop Neal off here while I… anyway I'd usually find him on the roof. Neal's always wandering off. It's no big deal. He'll be fine."

Peter was halfway to the elevator by the time Mozzie go out his first sentence. Mozzie was halfway to the elevator as well. Peter had a very firm hold of his wrist.

-W-C-

Neal pressed his face against the newest addition to the sculpture garden. It resembled a giant size bronze slug. The little boy ran his hands over the warm, smooth surface of the metal creation. He shut his eyes and continued to gently caress the tactile material as he trailed the shape all over. He liked the pleasing sensation it sent through his finger tips and the heat emanating from the sun drenched surface.

Eventually he opened his eyes, and turned to make his way over to the adjacent sculpture, but unfortunately for young Neal, his path was blocked by one very upset looking Peter holding onto one very breathless Mozzie.

"I've been looking all over for you Neal. You just took off without a word. I had no idea where you were! What do you have to say for yourself young man?"

"Ahhh…"

The young boy looked around, hoping to find an appropriate answer somewhere in the thin air.

"Ahhh…"

Peter was still waiting for an explanation. Neal looked to his friend for a clue. Mozzie gave an almost indiscernible shake of his head while holding a single finger to his lips, '_No. Don't.'_

"Ahhh…" Neal ignored the advice of the older boy and held his arms out to his side, "T-Da! Heaw I am!"

Mozzie cringed. _Had_ _he taught the kid nothing about self-preservation?_

Obviously not. Peter showed his disapproval of the response by taking a hold of the young boy's arm, turning him sideways and landing two very firm swats on his behind.

Neal yelped and quickly reached back to rub his butt. His little bottom lip began to quiver and tears welled in his eyes. "I sowwy."

"Hey. It's okay little man." Peter scooped the boy up and cradled him against his shoulder. "I was worried about you when I didn't know where you were but you're safe and that's all that matters." Peter took Mozzie's hand and headed back towards the stairs while still carrying the smaller boy. "Come on, let's go get something to eat."

-W-C-

The trio sat around one of the circular tables of the sixth floor cafeteria. Between them, they'd managed to consume two apple juices, a chocolate milk, a large plate of nachos and several scoops of caramel swirl ice-cream. El would not be pleased if the boys complained of tummy aches later!

Peter put his hand on the little boy's shoulder and sighed deeply, finally able to relax after his earlier scare. "Neal, it's not safe to wander around by yourself. Not here at the Gallery, not at the Science Center, not anywhere. You need to be with an adult at all times. Something bad could happen to you."

"Wike what?"

"Like a bad person could come along and snatch you up and take you somewhere and might be really mean to you."

"Oh, Peter. We would never let that happen." Mozzie swiped his finger across the ice-cream plate hoping to have one last taste.

"It may be something beyond your control. You may not be able to stop it big guy."

"Of course we could Peter. We've had to look after ourselves lots of times. We have a plan of action just in case someone tries to mess with us."

"Yeah? What type of plan?"

"Well, first we'd gouge them in the eye."

Neal gave a demonstration pretending to scratch at his own eyes.

"Then we would kick or knee them between the legs."

Neal cupped his hands over his pants and pulled an anguished face while Mozzie continued with the verbal description.

"Then we'd run off screaming, Money! Money! Cause everyone turns when you say money. Some people even come running."

"That's a really great plan, boys." Peter was quite pleased that the little guys had given a lot of thought to looking out for their own safety but at the same time, disappointed that they had to in the first place. "Have you ever had to use it?"

Mozzie nodded. "A couple of times."

Neal nodded as well.

"Okay, look that's fine if you're in a really desperate situation but sadly, it's not always going to work out the way you need it to. Do you know what the best plan is?"

"Nuh uh." Neal shrugged.

Peter took the little boy's hands in his and spoke softly. "Don't wander away from the adult looking after you in the first place."

Mozzie crossed his arms. "Yeah, but sometimes we might just want to check something out like…"

"Wike ta culpchews."

Peter took a moment to work that one out. "The sculptures?"

"Yeah."

"No." Peter let out a long deep sigh. "Alright, let's try this, how do you think I felt little man when I looked around and you weren't there?"

"Ah…annwy." Neal screwed up his nose, squinted through his eyes and tried his best angry face.

"No." Peter restrained from laughing at the expression. "How do you think I felt big guy?"

"Scared." Mozzie studied the table top, not looking the older man in the eye.

"Yes. That's right and why was I scared?"

Both boys shrugged.

"No idea?"

"Nope, sorry."

"I was scared because I was frightened something bad had happened to you, Neal. You guys mean a lot to El and me and we don't want anything bad to happen to either of you. I care about you and if you care about someone, you want them to be safe. When you went missing and I didn't know where you were, I felt scared."

"Sowwy Pweter."

"It's okay now, kiddo but please don't ever do it again."

"Nooo, Pweter."

"Thank you Neal."

"Can I wook ower dare." The little boy pointed Sunny towards the aquarium over on the side of the cafeteria."

"Sure, but don't go wandering anywhere else. You know what will happen if you do?"

The little chap subconsciously rubbed his butt. "Yes, Pweter."

Mozzie watched as his young friend skipped over to the impressive looking fish tank. "You realise it's only a matter of time before he wanders off again."

"Well see."

"He wanders off cause something catches his eye and he can't see past that…You can't teach an old dog new tricks, Peter."

"He's a five year old boy, Mozzie. I think he's capable of learning something new."

"He's almost six, anyway that's beside the point. He can't help it. His mind is too easily distracted."

"Unlike yours?"

"Yes of course, but that's to be expected with my years of worldly experience and superior knowledge."

Peter chuckled finding this whole conversation entirely amusing. "Still, we have to try our best to support the little guy." Neal was tapping on the glass, trying to get the attention of the magnificent angel fish floating in and out of the cave, despite the fact large signs were plastered all over the fish tank clearly warning against any such action.

Mozzie began to pull apart the paper napkin. "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" Peter took his eyes off the young boy at the fish tank and gave his full attention to the child sitting with him at the table.

"What you said before…that you care about us?"

"Yeah, of course. Why would you think otherwise."

"Cause...no one's ever meant it before."

Peter reached over and wrapped his arm around the young boy. "Where are your parents, Mozzie?" Peter had read the file. No missing child report, no birth certificate, no clues at all as to who the child was. No one knew anything about Mozzie's background. Well, technically one person did. The young boy sitting across the table had been four years old when he walked into a downtown police station. Old enough to know something. However, to date, the only two pieces of information welfare officers had been able to get out of the mysterious child were his first name, if that could even be taken seriously, and his age. Peter tried again. "Mozzie, where are you parents?"

The young kid balled the well torn napkin and tossed it into one of the empty apple juice bottles. "Well…Mom's out with the real estate guy investigating stores for her new business and Dad's taking care of the kids for the day. They went to the Science Center and now they're hanging out at the Art Gallery." Mozzie's tone indicated he was trying to be smart but the expression in his eyes spoke more of hope and desire. "Can I go and have a look at the aquarium too?"

"Sure. But don't go…"

"Wandering off. I know." Mozzie got up and went over to join the other little chap who was pointing out the names of every fish in the tank to Sunny. Peter watched them from his chair, mulling over the remarks made by the nine year old. He didn't know what to make of Mozzie's reply. Sure, it had been spoken as a cheeky response to Peter's prying. But Peter was almost too nervous to admit to himself the ramifications of the kid's words for El and himself. They'd gone into this arrangement with every intention of handing the boys over as soon as Rachel found a suitable placement. It was a temporary arrangement. Temporary as in sooner or later, Mozzie and Neal would have a new, more permanent home. Peter studied the little guys over by the tank, totally mesmerised by the tropical fish. Neal looked over his shoulder and saw Peter staring. He lifted his seal and waved the little flipper in Peter's direction. Peter waved back, bringing an adorable smile to the little boy's face. Yeah, clearly he'd have to review his definition of the term '_temporary'_!


	8. Chapter 8

Peter stepped through the internal door and dropped his briefcase on the floor. It was so good to be home. Agent Macy had called in sick, the computer network in the White Collar Division had crashed after some young tech from the I.T. department tried to run a diagnostic to clear a bug in the system and his office had received three new case files in the last twenty-four hours, all handed down from the Organised Crime Division. Someone in that particular department had it in for him, Peter was sure of it!

He hung up his coat and took in the sweet sounds and smells of coming home after a trying day at the office. As he walked through to the dining area he spotted Mozzie and Neal placing cutlery around the table. They looked all fresh, liked they'd just stepped out of the shower and were dressed in their flannel pajamas ready for bed.

"Hello big guy." Peter ruffled the mop on top of the older child's head. It was still damp from having been washed.

"Hi Peter."

"Hi little man." Peter gave the young boy a kiss on the top of his head.

Neal wrapped his arms around Peter's waist and squeezed.

"Hi little man." Peter tried again, this time giving Neal a pointed look as he spoke.

"Hi Pweter. We wissed you."

"I missed you boys too. You have a good day?"

"Elizabeth said dinner would be served the minute you stepped through the door. I'm starving."

"Fine, I'll go wash up for dinner," Peter chuckled. "I'm going. No need to wave a stick, Moz."

-W-C-

Peter looked around the table. Dinner had been particularly quiet this evening. Both boys sat quietly and answered Peter's questions politely but didn't add any additional snippets of information like they normally would. Particularly Mozzie, who loved to contradict everything from the colour of the plates to what day of the week it was. El was also overly quiet. Lately she'd been bubbly and enthusiastic, excited to talk about what they all got up to during the day. Something wasn't right. Had something happened while he'd been at work?

"What did you get up to today, Moz?"

"Ah…Not a lot. Neal and I read some books. We played with Satchmo for a while in the backyard before Elizabeth called us in cause it was getting 'too cold to be out in our bare feet', and we went to the mall for a few things."

"Let me guess, Elizabeth went to the hairdressers? You're hair looks great by the way, El."

"Thanks hon. Feels great to have all the split ends cut off. It was driving me crazy."

"You couldn't talk the boys into getting a trim, or better still, the number four gauge all over while you were there?"

"Not today. Maybe next time." El pushed the food around on her plate and tried to avoid any further eye contact with her husband. Something had happened at the mall alright, but what? Peter turned to the one person at the table who was yet to understand the art of evasion. "Neal?"

The little boy had finished eating and was drinking the last of his milk. He looked over once he'd returned the cup to the table.

"Neal, what did you two boys do at the mall today that made Elizabeth unhappy?"

"We kept touching all the things at the hairdressers and Elizabeth had to ask us several…"

Peter turned to the older boy and spoke very firmly, "Mozzie, I was talking to Neal."

The older boy gulped, "Sorry."

"Neal, tell me what happened please."

"I wander off while Wizzybiff gettin hair cut."

"Neal." Peter shook his head, disappointed. "I asked you just the other day not to do that anymore. I hope Elizabeth gave you a good whack on your bottom when she found you."

"Nooo." Tears began to well in the corner of the little chaps eyes. Peter tried not to notice.

El put down her fork and provided an explanation. "No, he didn't get a smack but I had promised both boys a packet of caramel Hersey Kisses if they were good, so they both missed out."

"Mozzie too?"

"Yes. I'd asked him a number of times not to touch the straightening wand or the blow dryer on the counter at the salon but he continued to 'investigate' until I finally had to ask him to go sit back in the waiting room, before we were all banned for life."

"That's disappointing big guy. I expect better behaviour from both of you."

"Yes sir."

"Well next time you'll have to try a lot harder if you want your chocolate treat."

"Wizzybif said not awowd any morw choc kisses eber."

Peter took a moment to translate. "Elizabeth said you weren't allowed any more chocolate kisses ever?" _Really?_ Peter looked over at his wife while he asked, "Neal, why would Elizabeth say that?"

"We gave Elizabeth a hard time. I'm sure…"

"Mozzie." The tone of the older man's voice stopped the kid's interruption instantaneously.

"Neal?"

"Wizzybif fwound dem in ow pockit."

"You had a bag of chocolate kisses in your pocket?"

The little boy nodded causing the tears to spill from his eyes.

"Mozzie too."

"Yes Peter. I had them in my pockets too."

"So let me get this straight, Elizabeth told you that you couldn't have any chocolates because you both were naughty, so you went and stole them anyway?"

"Yes Peter. It was my idea. Neal only took them because he saw me doing it."

"Neal, did Mozzie tell you that you had to steal the chocolates?"

"Nooo."

"Did you think he would be angry or disappointed with you if you didn't take any?"

"Nooo."

Peter looked over at his wife who was unusually quiet about this whole affair. The boys sat very still, both studying the design on the table cloth. All three knew. All three had known the minute Peter walked through the door how this was going to end. The boys had done something unacceptable they'd been warned about and now there'd have to be consequences. He examined the plates and pretty much confirmed that everyone had finished eating. "Mozzie, Neal, both of you go upstairs now and wait in your room please." The command was spoken firmly but not harshly.

"Hold on boys." El hopped up and put a hand on each of the boys' shoulders, "I'll just bring out your desert. Hon, can I see you in the kitchen for a moment please?"

Peter, once out of view of the youngsters, rolled his eyes and shook his head as he followed his wife into the kitchen.

"Peter, you're really not going to follow through with this?"

"El they stole again. Last time they stole, we sat them down, both of us, and told them it was wrong and if they did it again, they would be punished. Now I know you remember so why are you against me on this?"

"But do you really have to, you know…"

"Spank them?"

"Yes. Can't we just punish them some other way. Maybe ban them from watching tv for a couple of days or make them sit in a corner for five minutes…"

"Or how about only give them one piece of chocolate cake for desert instead of two?"

El growled, "Peter," unable to see any humour in his suggestion.

"El, the boys aren't even interested in the television and if you think you can get the little one to sit in the corner staring at a wall for more than five seconds then good luck to you."

"Can't we just give them one more chance? They've been through so much already."

"Listen El, we had a chat to the boys for this very reason. Now we need to be consistent. If we don't follow through, then next time we'll have a problem on our hands. They won't be able to understand why they are being punished when they were let off for the same offence last time. And if we turn around and give them another chance, yet again, we'll they'll see it as a free pass to 'consequence free land'. Peter put a caring hand on his wife's shoulder, fully aware how difficult this was, for both of them. "How about after you've filled them up on chocolate cake, you take Satchmo for a stroll around the block. It's a fine evening out."

El replied with a huff and a glare and simply grabbed her chocolate cake and headed out to the dining room, only to return seconds later sporting a worried look. "Peter, they're gone!"


	9. Chapter 9

Peter jogged back down the stairs meeting El at the bottom. "It's fine. Both doors still have the chain latched, can't be put back on from the outside, and if that's not enough, Sunny Seal is still on his bed. They haven't left the house. I'm pretty sure I know where they'll be." Peter moved confidently down the internal stairs to the basement while El waited in the living room.

Apart from a small corner which was used as the laundry, the basement was filled with an odd assortment of furniture and boxes, remnants of when El and Peter first moved in together. Eventually they'd work out what to do with the double-ups, but until then, and neither was in any particular hurry to sort through the mess, the items were happily stored at the far end of the basement.

Towards the back was Peter's old closet. The wardrobe should be empty but tonight, Peter expected it may very well be 'occupied'. He opened the door and was rewarded with two sets of innocent looking eyes peering up. Peter reached down and took Mozzie's arm. He gently pulled the boy up and out, turned him sideways and gave him a swift smack to his backside. "Upstairs."

Reaching down for a second time, Peter carefully pulled out the smaller child, and also gave him a firm whack to his behind. Neal yelped and swung his hand back quickly to protect his rear from any further swats. Peter took Neal's hand and followed the older boy all the way up to the guest room. He passed El on the way up the stairs. She indicated quietly that she was heading back to the kitchen to put the chocolate cake away.

-W-C-

The two little guys sat on the bed while Peter took a seat on the chair beside the writing desk.

"Tell me what I said would happen if you stole again?"

"You said we would both be punished." Mozzie crossed his arms and put his chin against his neck.

"And how did I say you would be punished big guy."

"You said we would go without food for the next two days."

"You are in enough trouble already. Do you really want to add lying to the list, Mozzie?"

"No sir."

"Neal, tell me what happens if you steal."

The little boy had a single tear run down his cheek. "You pank us."

"That's right. You boys stole those chocolates, now I'm going to give you both a spanking."

Peter hopped off his chair and pointed. "Sit here please Mozzie."

The nine year old was happy to comply, relieved that his butt was protected, for the moment.

Peter took Mozzie's vacated spot on the bed, right beside the littlest moppet. "Neal, I'm going to spank you now for stealing."

"Nooo. I gabe tem back."

"You shouldn't have stolen them in the first place, young man." Peter lifted the little boy up and laid him across his lap. Neal twisted and turned and squealed but was unable to escape the strong arm holding him firmly in place. Peter quickly pulled down the multi-coloured dinosaur pajama pants and sighed deeply. He had to get this over with quickly before he also lost his nerve. Pulling back his hand, he swung it down firmly upon the little white butt lying over his knees.

"Waaaaa!" Neal screamed out the minute Peter's large hand landed on its target.

Peter brought the hand down two more times in quick succession.

"Pweter! Ow! Pwease! Owww"

"Are you going to steal again Neal?" Peter gave another three spanks to the youngster's bottom.

"Nooooo. I pwomise." Neal croaked out between sobs.

"Good. Because if you ever steal again," Peter brought his hand down twice more, "I will give you another spanking just like this one." Peter finished with two more very firm whacks to the rosey skin of the little boy's backside.

Neal sobbed and sobbed while Peter pulled up his jammie pants and lifted the boy upright on his lap. The youngster blew his nose onto his pajama shirt and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. As soon as he felt he could, he jumped off Peter's lap and ran out of the room crying out, "Wizzybif! Wizzybif!

Peter sighed deeply, yet again, and turned in the direction of the older child who had remained very still where Peter had placed him. "Your turn Mozzie."

"I don't want a turn."

"It's not up for debate."

"How about this? We just skip to the part where you ask, 'Are you ever going to steal again?' I'll say, no sir. I most certainly would never be so foolish. You say, 'Good, because if you do I'll be giving you a spanking like I just gave young Neal.' And I'll say that won't be necessary and I'll quietly stroll out of the room to find Elizabeth to wish her a good night." Mozzie raised his eyebrows, hoping for approval of the plan.

Peter merely clicked his fingers and pointed at an invisible spot in front of his feet. 'Petition denied.'

Mozzie reluctantly rose from his spot, pushed his chair back under the desk, carefully removed his glasses, placed them on the table top and stepped over to the side of the older man's knees.

Peter took his hand and looked into the young boy's eyes. "Why did you steal the chocolates Mozzie? I'm sure it wasn't anything to do with you being desperate for a sugar fix."

The boy fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. "I'm not entirely sure…but maybe out of habit. We see something that's an easy target and it's too good to pass up on it. This time we had opportunity and motive. Elizabeth said we couldn't and I guess we wanted to convince ourselves that it didn't matter if she said no."

"Do you think you could maybe try a little harder to follow the rules? I know that circumstances have contributed to you feeling like you need to resort to some of the things that you do, but I'm hoping you might consider that it doesn't always have to be that way. If you have someone caring for you and watching out for you, you can perhaps concentrate a bit more on doing what's right and behaving like a nine year old is supposed to. Nine year olds don't steal Mozzie and if they do, they get a spanking."

"How about I promise to consider all aspects of the scenario before I blunder my way into another unfortunate disaster like the one today and you can consider giving me a get out of jail free card?"

"Not going to happen Mozzie." Peter pulled the kid across his lap and wasted no time in pulling down his pajama pants. The first whack brought a loud yelp and the young boy lost his cool composure. "Nooooo, please!"

After the fifth smack, Mozzie was more than ready to bargain. "Yeow! Peter. No more and I'll do any job you want tomorrow, including picking up the doggie poo from around the yard. Yeow!"

Peter ignored the proposed deal and continued on with his firm lesson. "You steal Mozzie, you get a spanking. Am I clear?"

"Ouch! Yes sir. Very clear. Owwwwww!" Peter finished with two very hard whacks to the kid's backside hoping to leave a lasting impression. He pulled up the robot pajama pants and lifted the boy back onto his feet, pulling him in for a hug. Mozzie wiped at the tears flowing down his cheeks. "I'm sorry I caused more trouble Peter and I'm sorry that I got Neal punished."

Peter placed a hand on the young boy's shoulders. "Mozzie, Neal got himself in trouble. We know he looks up to you and follows your lead but he's a smart little boy. He made that decision himself and sooner or later he has to realise there are consequences for his own behaviour…Now, why don't you go and wash your face and come downstairs when you're ready to say goodnight."

Peter walked back downstairs and found the younger boy curled up on 'Wizzybif's' lap on the couch. Little whimpers could be heard coming from the tiny bundle under his wife's arms. El gave Peter a sympathetic look. She knew he'd done the right thing, it just wasn't an easy task to carry out. Peter sat on the couch beside El and placed a hand on the little guy's foot.

Neal wiped his face once more on his shirt and shifted across to Peter's lap. The little boy looked up through clumps of dark, moist hair and stared at Peter with the most irresistible puppy dog eyes the agent had ever seen. "Pweter?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Can I pwease hab my chocwat cake now."


	10. Chapter 10

The rest of the week passed without incident, the boys were on their very best behaviour. Friday night had become pizza and movie night and it was one of the favourite times of the week for everyone. El got the boys to make their own pizzas. She made the dough earlier in the day and then cut up a selection of fresh ingredients for the boys to spread over the pizza base. Mozzie always filled his base like someone would fill a takeaway plate at the Chinese buffet at the shopping mall food court. Neal on the other hand was far more precise with how he 'decorated' his base. His pizza always came out looking like something out of a culinary delights magazine.

Tonight's choice was 'Meet the Robinsons' for the family movie. It was Mozzie's number one. El figured he saw a lot of himself in the main character, Lewis. All four squeezed onto the couch, even though a spare arm chair was left for the taking. Even the puppy found a spot curled up on Mozzie's lap. Neal sat curled up on Peter's lap, Sunny curled up on Neal's. El rested her head against her husband's arm. Peter felt a little bit like a sardine and a lot like it was the most perfect spot in the whole world.

The movie ended and both boys jumped up, bundles of energy, quite prepared to keep going for a few hours yet.

"What are we watching now?"

"Nothing big guy, it's time for bed."

"But we're not tired."

"Well I am. Someone woke me at 4am this morning to tell me that Sunny was sad that Satchmo had eaten his friend's buggy run."

Neal put his hands over his eyes, hoping that no one would see him.

"Up you go boys. Peter and I will be up in a minute to tuck you in. Don't forget to brush your teeth."

"Duw we hab too?"

"Yes you have to, now scamp. And make sure you use toothpaste this time sweetie, not the hand cream."

-W-C-

"Gib me ta toofpaste, Moz. I hab it firwst.

"No way man. You're too slow. If I had to wait for you to be finished with it, I'd be an old man and my dentures wouldn't need brushing anyway." Mozzie started to squeeze the toothpaste onto his brush.

"I said gib me!" Neal grabbed for the toothpaste and in doing so, squeezed the tube so almost all of the remaining paste went down the front of the older boy's pajamas.

"Oh just great. Look what you did." Mozzie wiped at the mess on his shirt and scooped as much off with his hands as possible.

Neal thought it was hilarious and began to laugh himself silly.

"So you think this is funny kid?"

Neal nodded.

"How funny is this?" Mozzie used the toothpaste in his hand to wipe all through the little boy's hair.

The youngster stopped laughing, held up the tube of hand cream that he picked up off the basin and grinned evilly at his older friend.

-W-C-

Peter carried up a load of folding and placed it inside the door to his bedroom. There was a bit of a racket coming from the bathroom which certainly warranted investigation. He opened the door. _What the?_ The room looked like the local car wash, soap suds and bubbles everywhere. While he was surveying the damage, a soapy sponge came flying his way and landed on his chest, all but soaking his shirt.

Elizabeth came up the stairs five minutes later carrying two cups of water to place beside the boys' bed but the bed was empty. Surely they still weren't brushing their teeth? El opened the door to the bathroom to hurry the boys along only to be totally shell shocked by the sight. Mozzie stood in the bath shielding himself with the shower curtain. Neal sat up on the basin filling an empty cup with water, most likely to toss across the room. There certainly was enough water on the tiles for that to be the case. And Peter, Peter was crouched down behind the laundry basket tossing dirty socks back at his two combatants. All enemy fire ceased when the Rear Admiral made a surprise appearance on deck.

"What are you all doing! What a mess!"

"Uh oh. We're in trouble now boys."

Half an hour later, Peter and the boys had returned the bathroom to a respectable state. Neal had needed a shower to remove the toothpaste from his hair. Peter had refused to appease the boy with a bath. 'If you're going to play in the big league,' Peter had warned. Mozzie had only required a light sponge down. Both boys had fresh pajamas and innocent smiles as they trotted into the master bedroom to say goodnight to El.

"See you in the morning Elizabeth."

"Goodnight Mozzie." El gave him a firm pat to his behind. "No more with the toothpaste. Okay?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Night night Wizzybif."

"Nighty night Neal honey." El administered a soft swat to his backside.

"No more toofpaste Wizzybif?"

"That's right sweetie. Your hair is going to be smelling like mint for the next couple of days."

Both boys stayed where they were, looking expectantly towards Peter.

El was a little confused before finally catching on. "Ah…yes. No more making a mess with the toothpaste, mister." El used a pretend scolding voice as she reached out and whacked Peter's butt, hard.

Peter looked shocked, raising his eyebrows at the unexpected swat. _That stung_! Mozzie and Neal however thought it was a scream. They chuckled and laughed and rolled on the ground holding their tummies. Eventually Peter couldn't help himself and laughed too before grabbing the two little scallywags and shipping them off to bed for the night.

-W-C-

"Neal sweetie, aren't you hungry this morning? You haven't eaten any of your toast." It was unusual. Both boys normally ate everything that was put in front of them.

"You didn't get into the biscuits already young man?"

"Noooo Pweter."

"Just not hungry, sweetie?"

"My froat hurt Wizzybif." Neal held his hand up to his neck and patted.

"Oh baby, aren't you feeling well?" El reached across the table and put her hand on the young boy's forehead. You do feel a bit warm, might be coming down with something. I may have to take you to the doctors, though it might be hard getting an appointment being a Saturday."

Mozzie, who had been quietly munching away on his cornflakes, almost choked as he started to laugh.

"What's up with you big guy?"

"Elizabeth said she might have to take Neal to the doctors. Neal doesn't do doctors. Isn't it in his file or something. The kid has some type of psycho meltdown just walking past a clinic."

"Moz I just heaw you know!"

"Sorry kid. But it was funny, like Elizabeth thought she was just going to take you. Better to warn them now than to get into trouble later." Mozzie returned to munching on his cereal, after receiving an extremely pointed look from Peter.

"Look let's not worry about it now. It's probably nothing okay sweetie. I'll get you a couple of tablets to make your mouth feel better."

"He doesn't take tablets but you didn't hear that from me." The older child spoke quickly and softly as he was running his empty cereal bowl into the kitchen.

Peter rolled his eyes while wondering if anything to do with kids was ever simple!


	11. Chapter 11

Rachel Hammond stood on the porch outside the Burke's front door listening to the sounds of a loving family coming from the living room. She could see through the gap in the shades, Mozzie and Neal sitting at the piano, tapping away some old time melody. Eighteen months ago, the boys had lived with a retired piano teacher, Mrs Nelly Morris. Every day, for the five months the boys lived with Nelly, she had given them a piano lesson. Mozzie and Neal were very fond of the older lady and had settled in very quickly to the neat little cottage with a courtyard bird aviary filled with a menagerie of brightly colored budgerigars. Nelly was sweet, patient and loved the two little chaps that filled a void in her life after her husband passed on. Unfortunately, one night after the boys had gone to bed, Nelly tripped over a cat that had strayed into the courtyard and the elderly lady ended up with a broken hip. While recuperating, she had been placed into palliative care and the boys, once again, returned to Juvenile Hall.

Rachel watched the young chaps playing the piano. They really were both quite good. Peter and El were in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around each others waist, matching their dance steps to the music. They were indeed a perfect family, but Rachel wondered if she had given them enough time to work that out for themselves. For tonight the welfare officer and family friend would play her final card. She had warmed Peter up with her earlier suggestions of the Bentleys and the Taylors. They had been reasonable foster care placements but she had counted on Peter turning them down. Tonight she was going to present the Connors. Mr Connor owned a garden shop on the outskirts of town. Mrs Connor was a trained special education teacher, but had taken leave from work to help out around the shop and to work on some home renovations. Mrs Connor was extremely artistic and she had begun to transform their ordinary weatherboard house into a beautifully decorated homestead. The Conner's house shared the same property as the garden center so the boys would enjoy the benefits of having a huge area to roam and explore. The Connors were unable to have children and they were excited about taking in a couple of foster children. Rachel had been waiting for the 'perfect' placement to come along before she made her final play. She knew the best way for someone to work out in their head if it was what they really wanted, or in this case, needed, was to take away the opportunity to have a choice. Rachel considered it was like trying to decide if you really wanted the new dress on sale, hanging off the rack at the department store. If another shopper came along and plucked it from under your nose and carried it off to the counter to purchase, that's the moment you knew if you had really wanted it or not. If you loved the dress then you wanted to chase after the rude individual who took it from you, if you hadn't really wanted it after all, you shrug your shoulder and move on. Rachel had worked on enough cases to understand, people didn't really know if they wanted something till they couldn't have it anymore.

Peter and El were as much in need of the two little moppets, fate had placed in their care as Mozzie and Neal were in need of the wonderfully loving set of parents dancing in the living room. Tonight they were going to face the moment of truth, courtesy of Mr and Mrs Connor and their timely arrival on the foster carers expression of interest list.

-W-C-

Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong!

"Rachel! Hi, come in, please."

"Hi Petey, hope it's not too late to be calling?" The welfare officer reached up and kissed Peter on the cheek.

"Of course not." Peter took Rachel's hand and guided her into the living room. The boys had stopped playing and had spun round on the piano stool to get a look at the new arrival. Their faces said they weren't overly happy to see that particular visitor.

"Hi Elizabeth. Great to see you again." Rachel greeted El with a warm embrace.

"How are you Rachel? What have you been up to?"

"Oh you know, not much other than work. I hear you're not too far off starting up Burke Premier Events. Peter's been talking a lot about it, he's very proud."

"Yeah, we'll see how it all pans out. Nothings set in stone yet but everything is looking very positive so far."

Peter interrupted at the first opportunity. "Can I get you a coffee, Rachel?"

"Yeah that would be great thanks, Petey." Rachel turned towards the purpose of her visit as Peter headed off to the kitchen. "And how about you two little munchkins? What mischief have you been up to lately?" She ruffled Mozzie's hair. "Hi Mozzie. How have you been?"

"Hey Rachel. Just dandy thank you."

"Wonderful." She patted Neal on top of his head. "Hi Neal."

Neal smiled at Rachel before looking at Elizabeth. He got the stare so he turned back and replied, "Huwwo Wachel."

"Ah hello Neal. What did you get up to today gorgeous boy?"

"Uhh…wets see…" The little boy folded his arms and tapped his finger against his lips while he was thinking. "Uhh, we pwayed with satchwo, I hab a sorw froat an we don't eber steal any morw."

Wow, Rachel was impressed. She'd never heard as many words come out of the little boy's mouth at one time. "You guys are so lucky that Elizabeth and Peter have a puppy." Neal nodded enthusiastically. "But I'm sorry to hear you have a sore throat, cutie pie, hopefully you'll feel all better tomorrow. And no more stealing? Well that's good advice for anyone."

"What the story Rachel?" Mozzie circled the welfare officer looking for clues. "Are you going to give us the good news or the bad news first this time?"

"Well my pocket-sized mastermind, you'll be happy to know my business tonight is with the Burkes so you're off the hook. Neither good nor bad news but I'm guessing you'll tell me that no news is good news so does that meet with your approval?"

"As far as it being good news, only time will tell, plus as usual, it's totally out of my hands, so I'll take my leave, and my young friend and allow you 'adults' to have you're meeting in secrecy." Mozzie took the younger boy's hand and headed for the stairs. Neal reached back and grabbed Sunny off the coffee table.

"That's very thoughtful of you Mozzie, as usual, you are wise beyond your years. Good night boys."

"Goodnight Rachel."

"Nighty night Wachel."

"Peter and I will be up to tuck you both in shortly. Don't forget to…"

"Brush your teeth. We know Elizabeth."

"Good you finally get it that it's every night, not just on nights when you have something stuck to your teeth. Oh, and don't use…"

"Ta hand cweam by miswake. We know Wizzybiff."

-W-C-

"Moz, we won't know wat tay say now." Neal lay back on the double bed and cuddled Sunny.

"Oh to be young and innocent again! Listen kiddo. The other day, when Elizabeth and Peter were whispering at the table while you and I were out the back with Satchmo, well you know how annoying that was?"

"Yeah."

"Well I acquired a bug, from an acquaintance, which I planted in the terracotta pot Elizabeth keeps in the middle of the table." Mozzie grinned proudly at the younger boy.

"Gweat work Moz."

"Yes great work indeed. Now just sit back and enjoy the show kiddo. Let's hear what fantastic plans Rachel has for our future."


	12. Chapter 12

"So Elizabeth, you poor thing, please tell me you didn't try to drag Neal to the docs."

El laughed, "Mozzie warned us, thank goodness. I've experienced one of his meltdowns and I'm not entirely sure how I'd cope with one out in public. No, I went to the pharmacy and bought some liquid Panadol to help with the temp and sore throat. That was traumatic enough for Peter and I. I never knew five year olds were capable of such first class tantrums over something as simple as a spoonful of medicine."

"I can imagine, quite easily." Rachel smiled at the memory of all the hissy fits she'd seen over the years.

"Lucky you, anyway, so far it's not too bad but if he keeps going downhill I'll make an appointment for him on Monday morning."

"Be sure to call in reinforcements Elizabeth, the note in his file isn't doing the fight he's going to put up when you try and take him, justice."

"Duly noted Rachel. Thanks for the warning. I think I'm busy Monday morning anyway. Peter may have to take him."

Both women chuckled at the thought.

-W-C-

Mozzie rolled on the floor, holding a cushion over his head, trying to stop the sounds of his hysterical laughter reaching the floor below.

"Sop it Moz, sop it! Wasn't bery funny!" Neal was pounding on the cushion, ever so embarrassed by what they'd heard through the little speaker plugged in under the desk.

"Owww!" Mozzie stopped laughing and sat up after one of the little boy's punches missed the cushion and landed on the older kid's head. "Crap Neal, that hurt. And in any case, it was truly funny, no matter how much you're in denial. Now shush, Peter's back in the room."

-W-C-

"Rachel, what sorry excuse for a foster parent do you have on offer tonight?"

"Oh Petey, how little you know about me. Do you really think I'd bother coming around on my day off, after dinner to put forward a suggestion I'd be certain you'd toss out the window?"

"Well can't say I'm all that convinced in your competency in making expert decisions after the last couple of placements you considered."

"Peter, how rude," El scolded while slapping her husband on the arm.

Peter pulled his arm out of harms way. "Hey! I was kidding, right Rachel, you know I was kidding?"

"Of course Petey, I know you wouldn't dare be rude to me, still, Elizabeth you should have a very stern talking to him after I leave about inappropriate behaviour around guests in the house." Rachel winked at El.

"It'll be my pleasure, Rachel."

Peter groaned. "Okay, let's just focus here. Tell me about the foster family you've picked out for Mozzie and Neal, please."

-W-C-

Mozzie angrily yanked the speaker out of the wall socket and tossed it across the room.

"I don't umberstand, Moz. Arwn't Peter and Wizzybiff ow fwoster family?"

"No kid, they're not. Didn't you hear Peter, it was quite clear to me. He had Rachel pick out somewhere else for us to go. What a surprise! Another mom and dad that don't want us! We'll, we don't want them either and you know what, kid, I'm not sticking around to hear what brilliant home Rachel's going to ship us off to next. Get Sunny, I'll get my shoes. We're leaving!"

"Bu I don't wanna go Moz. I wike it here."

"So did I but if Peter and Elizabeth don't want us here then you remember what it's like to live with someone that doesn't want you around anymore don't you?"

"Yeah, bu wherw we gonna sweep? Pwease can we stay Moz? I fweel cold an my fwoat hurts." Tears began to spill down the side of the little chap's face.

Moz wrapped an arm around his friend. "It'll be okay Neal. We've done this lots of times before, we can take care of ourselves. I'll take care of you. We'll find somewhere great like last time and after a while, you won't even think about Peter or Elizabeth anymore."

-W-C

Both Burkes sat in silence, unable to formulate a response to Rachel pulling a rabbit out of her hat with the Connors. The Connors were just right in every sense of the word. They would provide what the Taylors, the Bentleys and countless other foster parents had failed to give the two little boys upstairs. There was however, one slight hiccup, and both Peter and El's brains were scrambling fast, trying to put their finger on the exact nature of the problem.

"Now Petey, you can't complain about this placement. It has all the essential ingredients of a perfect foster family for the boys. Any issues?"

Peter stared, reeling with the news. "Ah…No."

Rachel smiled. "Great, then I'll swing by on Monday afternoon to collect the boys, that way you'll have the rest of the weekend to pack up all their gear and say your goodbyes. Monday's fine with both of you?"

"No!" El and Peter responded at the same time, suddenly knowing exactly what the problem was with the Connors. The Connors weren't the Burkes and that was the only placement that was ever going to be right for Mozzie and Neal as far as Peter and El were concerned!

"No?" Rachel looked quizzically between the two.

"No Rachel. We don't want you to take the boys. El and I have been talking and we…we don't want them to leave. We want to look after them permanently… We want to adopt them." El nodded to back up her husband's statement.

"Woa, hold on a minute. Adopt?"

"Yes, Peter and I have talked this through very seriously and it's what we would like to do. We want to adopt Mozzie and Neal. Is that possible? Will you support us with this Rachel?"

"Of course, Elizabeth. And yes it is possible but…" Rachel took a deep breath, "there are three things you really need to take into serious consideration before you make up your mind."

Both El and Peter leaned in closer across the table, listening carefully.

"Firstly, even though the boys' parents gave up any rights to the children long ago, you have to keep in mind that at any point in time, they may come back on the scene, demanding to see their child. They may go through a judge and ask for some type of visitation rights, which may turn into a serious issue when those demands are denied. It may be the case that you'd need some type of restraining order. Pete you'd be fully aware of the trouble non-custodial parents can cause for carers and their children." The agent nodded with a serious look, he knew alright. "Plus, most children that are adopted, at some point become curious and want to know about their biological parents, particularly when they get into those rebellious teenage years."

"I expect it's probably also something they may want to consider as they become an adult, with consideration to genetic health issues. Mozzie may have inherited a gene that is contributing to his poor eyesight and short stature."

"That's right. Although according to Mozzie, he's the perfect height for his age, it's all the other nine year olds that are ridiculously tall!"

"Sounds like the sort of conspiracy he believes in," Peter scoffed.

"Now you also need to consider that if you choose to adopt the boys, you give up all rights to access financial aid and support services provided to foster families. The child becomes your own so essentially, you are responsible for all medical, educational and social expenses that would normally receive a rebate under the children's support services umbrella. Once you sign the papers, you're on your own, just like you would be with a biological child."

"Well, that's nothing we haven't thought of already. So let's have it, what's the final item on your list of 'Three important things I should have known before I agreed to adopt'?"

Rachel smiled. "This one's the biggest of all, Petey. I want you both to think about this very carefully. Once you adopt Mozzie and Neal, the temporary turns into permanent and no matter what happens, there's no reversing the decision. There's no thirty day money back guarantee. No swapping the kids over for a couple of new ones when they break down. No shipping them back once an unlikable teenage monster takes over the body of your sweet, adorable little moppets. You need to be certain of your decision. There are no returns."

Peter opened his mouth to respond but Rachel held up her hand.

"Obviously we'll need to discuss it with the boys but I can't imagine under any circumstances they'd say no to the idea. Think about it over the weekend, talk to each other, work it out in your head if you are absolutely clear on the whole concept. You can't go into this with any uncertainty. This is not in the same ballpark as taking a couple of little boys home to care for them over the weekend while their parents are waylaid. This is going to be for the rest of their lives, for the rest of yours. When the judge signs off on the adoption papers he's going to turn to you and say, Mozzie and Neal are your sons now." Rachel began to dig through her bag. "I don't want you to give me an answer now but I'll call in Monday after work and you can let me know. I'll give you some information to read through in the meantime."

"While you're getting that out Rachel, I just need to race up and give Neal a dose of panadol for his throat before he falls asleep."

"Yeah, no problem. I'll just go through the papers with Elizabeth, then she can walk you through it later."

"Thanks." Peter climbed the stairs expecting to hear more from the boys' room than the silence he was greeted with. How many times a night did he have to tell the little rascals to stop talking and go to sleep? Peter stepped into their room, no Mozzie, no Neal. _Interesting?_ Surely they still weren't brushing their teeth? Maybe they both realised they needed to use the bathroom at the same time. Wouldn't have been the first time! Nope, no boys in the bathroom. Peter checked the master bedroom. Perhaps Neal had gone looking for El hoping for a goodnight hug and fallen asleep in the wrong bed. Of course, Mozzie would have followed, claiming something other than the truth. He didn't like being on his own. Peter stood in the doorway to his own room, surveying the empty bed. He walked back to the boys' bedroom, becoming slightly concerned. Peter studied the room. One neatly made bed. Two sets of discarded pajamas lying next to the drawers. On the floor, a speaker device he'd not seen in the house before, discarded against the far wall. Peter felt a breeze. The window was open. Why would the window be open? Peter felt his head begin to spin as all the clues fell into place. His heart skipped a beat and then it began some serious palpitations. Peter scanned the room for Sunny... Gone. He scanned the room for Mozzie's precious, oversized skater shoes... Gone. Mozzie and Neal... Gone!


	13. Chapter 13

The two little runaway moppets climbed through the hole in the chain wire fence and made their way over to the old abandoned boat shed down by the river. The older boy pushed the heavy wooden create obscuring the door and examined the padlock bolting the door shut. He scanned the ground and soon found what he was looking for. Holding up the short piece of discarded wire, he called out to his friend who was huddled on the ground, trying to keep warm, "Neal, get over here and open this."

The youngster took the offered makeshift tool and made quick work of opening the padlock on the door. "Moz you need to wern. I won't walways be awound."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah but in the meantime, don't you dare deny how much you love rubbing it in." Mozzie pushed open the door to reveal a small empty room that would only ever been large enough to house a small row boat. "Wow, this place is going to be perfect!" He removed his glasses and wiped them on his shirt so he could survey the surrounds a little easier. "Make yourself comfy Neal, there's a pair of old overalls on the ground over there you may be able to use as a blanket."

Neal held up the filthy piece of discarded clothing and pulled Sunny in tight, careful not to let him get contaminated by the germ infested material. He tossed the overalls back in the corner and turned to his friend. "I wike my weal bed much bwetter and my froat hurts much morw now."

Mozzie examined the room while he replied. "You'll feel better soon. In the morning, when I go out to get us breakfast, I'll get you something to make your throat feel better, okay?"

"You got money Moz?"

"No but since when has that been a problem for us."

"Since Pweter said we not awoud to steal anymorw."

"What do you think he's going to do about it kid?"

"He's gonna pank you Moz, when he fwinds out."

"Think about what you're saying Neal, he's not going to find out. We don't have to answer to Peter or Elizabeth anymore, now lie down and go to sleep."

Neal lowered himself down onto the hard concrete floor and curled up in a ball. "I can't sweep Moz. Wizzybif wubs my back when I can't sweep."

"Well Elizabeth's not here so unless you're a contortionist you'll just have to go to sleep without a back rub."

"I wiss Wizzybif."

"Elizabeth's got enough to keep her busy without having to worry about us. She's got her new business, she's got a big house to look after, she has Peter…"

"I wiss Pweter."

"Yeah but Peter is happy with the way things are already. He's got Elizabeth, he's got his new job, he's got his puppy."

"I wiss Satchwo."

Mozzie groaned, "Go to sleep already."

The little boy began to shiver, "It's bery cold in heaw Moz."

-W-C-

"Nuh, haven't seen either of them."

"Thanks anyway." Peter placed the two photos back inside his jacket pocket and made his way over to the next group of people all the way over at the opposite end of the park. It was deflating. He'd been looking for four days now and not one person recognised the photos he was flashing around of his two little boys. It was his biggest regret. How many opportunities did he have over the past few weeks to take a more recent photo of the boys? He could have taken a camera to the science center. He could have snapped the boys playing with Satchmo. He could have taken a photo of them when they were sitting in the tree in the backyard with ice-cream dripping all down their chins. He was an experienced investigator and he should have known better. It wasn't like the boys had never run away before and the first thing he'd need for any search would be a recent photo. He removed the two photos, once again, as he approached the next group of youths hanging out in the park. The photos were at least a year old and the boys both had crew cuts at the time the picture was taken. No mops, no tangled curls, no fedora. He hardly recognised them himself, how could anyone else? And what were the boys doing with short hair cuts in the first place. It was like someone had run the clippers with a number three gauge all over their little heads. In his wildest dreams Peter couldn't imagine the boys agreeing to that! In fact, the photos looked more like mug shots than snapshots. Both boys, staring straight at the camera, not a smile to be seen. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat as he approached the young street punks on the skate ramp. He checked his watch. He told El he'd come home and join her for lunch, and then he'd have to head back to the office to work on some actual cases. He scanned the park which backed onto the river. His boys had to be somewhere…but where?

El placed the cake tin into the oven and set the timer. Every day since the boys had disappeared she had made a chocolate cake, just in case. She walked back into the lounge room and passed the elegant bunny rug lying across the back of the arm chair. It was her one regret. She'd bought the bunny rug after Neal's meltdown when Satchmo had eaten the little boy's precious security blanket. She had purchased the blanket with the intention of giving it to Neal when he got into bed that night, but Peter had talked her out of it. He told El, Neal was getting too old for a security blanket and plus, if something should happen to the new bunny rug, then they'd have to go through it all again and neither of them wanted that. So El had reluctantly stored the miniature blanket on a high shelf in the cupboard and forgotten all about it. That was until she thought of her little boys, sleeping out, in some miserable dark dangerous alley, alone, hungry and cold. While she cried out all her tears, she held the bunny rug close to her chest and hoped that they'd come home soon so she could wrap the littlest moppet up in his new 'buggy run.'

-W-C-

Mozzie gave the secret knock and soon after, the solid wooden door was opened by one very sick looking little boy. Neal was pale, his eyes puffy and glazed over, his arms wrapped around his body as he shivered uncontrollably.

"Look kiddo, I got you some of that stuff that Elizabeth gave to you to make you feel better." Mozzie held up a bottle of children's panadol.

"How you get that?"

"Oh you have no idea." The older boy rolled his eyes. "I'll tell you, it would have been easier stealing an Apple iPad Touch."

"Wewr not awoud to steal Moz."

"I know, I know but honestly Neal, do you really think Peter could care less anymore. He's gone back to his life, we've gone back to ours."

Tears began to drip down the little boys face. He sat back down on the mattress Mozzie had acquired and folded his arms over his knees.

"Okay, look. I'm going to pour you out some of this stuff here and then you'll feel a whole lot better." Mozzie squinted at the numbers on the side of the little measuring cup as he poured. "Here, drink this and then I'll go out and get us some lunch."

"No fanks."

"No, you have to drink it. Elizabeth said it's the only way you'll get better."

"Wizzybif not here and I not dwinking it!"

"But Neal, you have to. See, your skin is really hot." Mozzie pressed his free hand against the little boy's forehead.

"Is not. It's fweezing."

"Your skin is really hot, Neal and this bottle says it stops fevers. That's what you have, a fever. Now drink this please."

"No Moz you dwink it!"

Mozzie sighed deeply and pushed up his glasses. "Neal, what did Peter and Elizabeth do to get you to drink this?"

"Ah…Pweter swatted my butt an towld me to just dwink it. You gonna do that Moz?"

"Hell no!" The older boy ran his hand across his face, looking for patience. "Fine, what about Elizabeth?"

"Wizzybif towld me…ah…it's embawassing."

"What did she tell you Neal?" The little boy pretended not to hear. "Tell me, or I'm going to take Sunny and toss him in the river."

"Noooooo!" Neal stuffed Sunny under his shirt. "Wizzybif towld me she would haf to caw ta docta an he would haf ta gib me medcin in …in my bottom if I didn't take it."

"Yeeew! No way man! Surely you must be joking?" Mozzie's face was all screwed up, totally disgusted with the thought. "Honestly Neal, you don't think the mere memory of Elizabeth telling you that horror story is enough of a reason to take this teeny weeny little drop of purple liquid?"

"Fine! I take it Moz but you hab to get me some morw bankets, it's so cold in here."

"Drink it first."

"Okay." Neal tilted back his head and tipped the contents of the medicine cup into his mouth. He looked at Mozzie while his eyes glassed over and watered. His little face turned even more pale than before. He ripped Sunny out from under his shirt and held his tummy as he leaned forward and emptied the contents of his stomach, which wasn't much, all over the concrete floor.

"You okay man?" Mozzie ignored the small liquid puddle on the ground and raced over to wrap an arm around his friend. Neal, between the groans, began to sob. Mozzie held on tight. "Hey kid, what can I get for you to make you feel better? A soda, a nice comfy pillow, what do you need?" The older boy was becoming quite concerned. "Neal, listen, whatever you need I can get for you. Please tell me, what can I get you to make you feel better?"

Neal wiped away the tears as he looked up at his older friend. "Wizzybif."


	14. Chapter 14

Peter leaned against the kitchen counter, his arms wrapped around El's waist as she cradled her head against her husband's shoulder. "It's going to be okay El. We'll find them. The boys have done this plenty of times in the past and they always turn up safe and sound."

"Yeah but eventually their good luck is going to run out, and I'm so worried about Neal. If he hasn't been taking something for his throat, he's likely to be quite sick by now."

"He's with Mozzie and the big guy won't let anything happen to him. If he's concerned, he'll get help. I'm certain of that. Peter took his wife's hand and led her out to the dining room. "Come on, come and sit down and I'll make us both a coffee before I have to head back to..." Peter stopped talking, stopped walking and El all but ran into the back of him. Both Burke's were momentarily speechless upon seeing a familiar figure sitting at the dining table. A messy mop of light brown hair, a bright orange shirt with peanut butter all over the collar and one pair of old-fashion black frame glasses with a set of nervous eyes staring out through the thick tinted lenses. Familiar alright! One of their wayward moppets had returned!

"Mozzie!" Peter and El snapped themselves out of their initial shock and wrapped their boy in a great three person bear hug.

"Mozzie, are you okay sweetie?" El was running her hands over his limbs checking for broken bones and any other serious ailments.

"Yes thank you Elizabeth. I'm fine but Neal is not doing so well."

"Where is he?" Peter's tone was a mixture of relief, concern, anger and panic.

"I'll take you."

-W-C-

Mozzie gave the secret knock for the second time, but still, no answer. "Neal, it's Moz. Let me in please!"

"Stand aside." Peter nudged the kid out of the way before stepping back and slamming his foot into the solid wooden door. The kick had the desired effect. The door flung open and El and Peter stepped quickly through, making their way immediately to the motionless figure lying curled up on the mattress pushed up against the far wall.

"Neal!...Neal sweetie?" El gently shook the little boy's shoulder. She could feel heat radiating through his shirt. "Peter, he's burning up!" El sat down on the mattress and pulled Neal up till he was cradled in her lap.

Peter looked around the shed and grabbed the bottled water lying amongst a pile of takeaway containers. He shot Mozzie a glare but the older boy was not daring to look in the agent's direction. Peter sat down beside El and held the water up to the youngster's parched lips. "Neal, have a sip buddy." He tilted the bottle 'til the water began to dribble down the little boy's chin, moistening the area around his mouth as it went. Neal opened his eyes, "Daddy…awn't you puposed ta be at werk?" El spun to look at Peter, did Neal just called her husband, Daddy?

"I think the little man is a bit delirious. He's dehydrated and we have to cool him down." As he was explaining, Peter lifted Neal's shirt up and over his head and poured some of the water from the bottle onto the soft cotton material. He dabbed the soggy shirt over Neal's head and shoulders before the little boy finally came around completely and pulled away from the chill. "Pweter nooooo!" Neal began to cry.

"It's okay sweetie. Peter is only trying to cool your body down. It's way too hot."

"Snot hot Wizzybif. I'm fweeing." Neal reached out for the blanket and tried to wrap it around his body but El held back his arm.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but if we don't cool you down now, you're going to end up in hospital and that won't be very nice for any of us."

Peter continued to sponge down the little boy's arms and face. "You're doing great champ. Just a little more okay?… Mozzie?"

"Yes sir?"

"Pass me that bottle please." Peter indicated the panadol bottle sitting on the floor between the pizza box and the soda bottle. Mozzie passed it over and quickly stepped back. Peter examined it carefully before turning back to the older boy. "Where did you get this and have you given any to Neal?"

Mozzie balked, but only for a second. "I stole it from the pharmacy on Leon Terrace this morning. I tried to give him 2oz about three hours ago but he threw it straight back up again."

Satisfied with the answer, Peter poured out another 2oz and held the cup to Neal's lips. "Listen carefully, young man, I want you to take a little sip of this then I'm going to give you a sip of water." Neal began to shake his head but Peter put a quick stop to the objection. "No, no stalling, no arguing, just do it or they'll be consequences, understand?"

Neal nodded, pressed the measuring cup against his lips and followed Peter's directions. Soon, the cup was emptied, its contents swallowed without the earlier disaster of it coming straight back up again. "Good boy." Peter looked around. "Right, Mozzie, get Sunny, everything else stays. You don't need any of this. You boys have a home to go to, with a real bed." Peter reached down and hoisted the little boy onto his shoulder.

"Noooo Pweter, I don't want ta lib wif the Conna's, I want ta lib wif you."

Both Peter and El turned together and frowned at Mozzie who was standing quietly by the door. The nine year old gulped, the glares from his 'parents' confirming what he already knew - he was in a whole world of trouble.


	15. Chapter 15

Mozzie held his hands over his ears to try and block out the wretched screaming coming from down the hall in Peter in El's room. What were they doing to the poor kid? It sounded to all the world like they were ripping his arms from the sockets. Mozzie considered he should really go and check on the boy. No one had told him he couldn't. No one had told him to shower and wait in his room either, but he'd done both of those things anyway. He'd do anything that perhaps might go a little way to saving his butt.

Not long after they'd arrived home from the boat shed, a doctor had called at the house to examine Neal. The doc appeared to be a friend of the Burkes, greeting Peter and El with handshakes and hugs. Neal had taken one look at the visitor and his medical kit and descended with lightning speed into his meltdown. Mozzie, all to aware of how much trouble he was in himself, stood out of the way and remained silent as Peter carried the howling, kicking, babbling youngster up the stairs and into the master bedroom. They had all been in there a while.

Eventually, Mozzie heard Peter and the doctor heading down the stairs. He could hear them rambling on about coming back to check up on Neal in a couple of days. That was a relief. It sounded like they wouldn't be needing to drag the kid off to hospital after all. There was only one person who hated hospital's more than Neal and the older moppet vowed to himself that it would be a cold day in hell before any one dragged him to one!

Mozzie heard the returning footsteps go back into the master bedroom. It was very quiet. Finally, no more pitiful sobbing sounds. Neal must have cried himself to sleep. The footsteps could now be heard heading his way. _Crap!_ He should have been using this time to come up with some feasible explanation for running away four days ago. What was he thinking? Mozzie was cranky with himself for being so amateur. There was a soft knock at the door… Time was up!

Peter stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Mozzie was sitting at the writing desk in the corner drawing. "What you up to big guy?"

"Oh! Hi Peter. I didn't hear you come in. I'm just making Neal a Get Well Soon Card. Do you want to sign it when I'm finished?"

"Sure. That'd be nice." Mozzie cringed when he saw Peter set himself down on the edge of the bed. That's where he'd sat _last time_! "Come over here please Mozzie. We need to have a talk."

_Damn!_ A talk? Hold on. He could do 'talk'. In fact, he could do 'talk' with the best of them. Maybe there was hope after all. Keeping his distance, he feigned a carefree disposition. "Yes, of course Peter. How's young Neal? I heard him screaming before. Did he fall off the bed and crack his skull open or something?"

"No. That probably would have been far less distressing. The doctor had to give him a shot of antibiotics for his infection. He took one look at the needle and well…I'm sure you heard. In fact I'm surprised NYPD hasn't been around here to see who was murdered. No doubt the whole neighborhood heard the screaming."

Mozzie strolled around the room as he spoke, not daring to come within an arm's length of Peter's spot on the bed. "Yeah the little guy sure knows how to do a number. What else did the doc say?"

"Well he said what we already knew. Neal's dehydrated and running a fever so lots of fluids and we have to keep him cool. He'll sleep in our room tonight so we can keep an eye on him. The doctor also said Neal was way underweight and he'd come back in a couple of days and give both you boys a full examination."

Mozzie gasped as his eyes almost popped out of his head. "Me too?"

"Yes, you too."

"But I'm a fine specimen of a boy. They broke the mold when they made me because they knew they couldn't recreate perfection. I don't need to be examined Peter. Clearly there's nothing wrong with me."

"Dr. Bryant _will _examine you when he calls again in a couple of days. End of story."

"Fine." Mozzie conceded defeat, just for this round, knowing full well that in a couple of days he'd have something up his sleeve. "Do you know Doctor Bryant?"

"Yes. He's a friend of mine. We went to college together."

"Does he live nearby? He didn't take long to get here this afternoon."

"No, he only lives about half dozen blocks away and he was already on his way home from work when I called."

"Does he have a family?"

"Yes. He's married to Jenny and they have two kids, a boy the same age as you and a little girl, I think she's just a bit older than Neal. They come over for dinner every couple of months and Andy and I often get together to watch the big sporting events on the TV. We should have them over one night soon, I'm sure you'll have a good time hanging out with their son A.J."

"I don't know Peter, kids don't usually like me very much." Mozzie fiddled with the photo frame on top of the dresser. It was a picture of Satchmo sitting on the back deck. "Besides, I've got Neal and we're not much into matchbox cars and Razor scooters. We're far too sophisticated for those baby toys. Give me a surveillance scanner and a retro button hole micro camera any day." Mozzie stopped pacing and studied the floor. Perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned his love for electronic devices. Perhaps Peter hadn't picked up on it. Perhaps he could step into a time machine and go back sixty seconds. The room seemed seriously quiet all of a sudden.

"Which brings us to the root of the problem that began this whole mess, doesn't it Mozzie? What on earth is a nine year old doing with something like the listening bug I found, in the first place!"

Mozzie shrugged.

"Tell me about the bug, please."

"Well, it's a GSM Automatic Secret Spy Bug listening device. Multi frequency, interval li-ion battery, voice activation…" Mozzie stopped his explanation when he saw Peter's finger go up, beckoning him over. The boy reluctantly stepped over and stood as directed in front of Peter's feet. Peter gave a little twirling signal with his finger. Mozzie interpreted, 'turn around'.

Mozzie squirmed as he gingerly turned to face away from Peter, putting himself in a way too vulnerable position. He wasn't at all surprised when he felt a stinging swat land on his backside. He reached back to rub as he turned once again to face Peter. "Ah, you were talking about how I acquired the bug?" Peter gave the turn around signal again. Another solid whack to his butt. _Damn!_ Mozzie turned back, "I see, you wanted to know how and when I set the bug up?" He got the twirling finger once more. Whack. _Crap!_ "Oh, of course, how silly of me. You want me to tell you that I'm fully aware of how I used the bug irresponsibly?" Mozzie hadn't even had a chance to turn back when another firm swat landed. Mozzie danced out of the way of any more potential butt attacks, holding both hands over the affected area, just in case. "Okay, I get it, you want answers to all three?" Peter began to lift his finger. "Uh…and the rest? Yes of course. Well, oh where do I begin?"

Peter tried again, ever so patiently. "Tell me about the bug, please."

"Well as I said before, I like electronics and there's a site, on the internet that…"

"When do you use the internet?"

"Ah, when Elizabeth is down in the laundry or having a shower." Mozzie inched ever so slightly away from the bed. "So I guessing I'm not allowed on the computer anymore?"

"You think so, Copernicus?"

Mozzie raised his eyebrows before continuing, "Yeah, anyway there is this site, I mean there _was_ this site I used to go on that delivers all manor of electronic gadgets."

"So you had it shipped here?"

"Not exactly. Actually the guy who runs the site, he's an acquaintance of mine. I've done some work for him, he's done some work for me."

"Correct me if I'm wrong here, Mozzie. You are nine years old, are you not? You're not some forty year old man living in a child's body."

"Oh no, certainly not. But I can see why you'd consider that a possibility with my superior knowledge and all."

Peter sighed deeply, while at the same time asking for some additional tolerance to see him through this conversation. "The acquaintance?"

"Yes, anyway, he works out of the city. I email him with what I want and he delivers, same day delivery in fact if you order before midday."

"Oh how very convenient."

"Yeah, I'll say, some places you have to wait a…." Mozzie adjusted his glasses and studied Satchmo's photo some more.

"So how does your acquaintance get paid? Please tell me you didn't use El's credit card while she was out watering the garden."

"Oh come on Peter. Surely I deserve more credit than that. I would never use a credit card. They are way too easy to trace. You should know that."

"Strangely enough I do, cause I'm and FBI Agent and not a nine year old boy!" Peter had begun to raise his voice so he took another deep breath to try and relax himself. "Fine, so you didn't use a credit card, how did this guy, does he have a name?" Mozzie shook his head. Peter was hardly surprised. "Of course not. How does this guy get paid?"

"Simple. He has the prices listed on the internet. When he makes the drop at the mutually agreed upon time and place, he swaps the article for an envelope and the envelope contains the correct amount of cash. He doesn't carry change so if you have to leave more than the item is actually worth, he just considers it a tip."

"Well, what a fine system he has, like a well oiled machine." Peter ran his hands through his hair, almost certain that the grey hairs would be making an appearance shortly. "You know what I'm going to ask next don't you?"

Mozzie swallowed down the nerves. "Yes. Where did I get the cash?"

"Yep. You are a smart boy."

Mozzie took another subconscious step away from the bed, not realizing 'til he felt the door knob sticking into his spine that he had nowhere else to go. "Look, in the interest of self-preservation, can I just say, I didn't take the money from either you or Elizabeth and that I acquired it elsewhere?"

Peter lifted his finger and beckoned. _Damn, not again!_ His butt has just finished tingling from the last round. "I stole it!" Mozzie blurted it out as fast as his little mouth would allow. "When we went to the mall with Elizabeth, not only did we steal the chocolate kisses but we lifted about five wallets and purses and collected a couple of hundred dollars in cash."

It took Peter every ounce of restraint in his entire body, not to leap of the bed and throttle the boy. Instead he managed, "Where are the wallets and purses now?"

"I imagine back with their owners. As soon as we've relieved them of the cash, we drop them back on the ground, or leave them on top of a pot plant or something. It would be very unwise to carry the evidence any longer than we need to. Neal's not quite got the hang of it. Hence the fact he was still carrying Elizabeth's purse the day you caught him."

"Yeah well he should know better shouldn't he? Maybe some more training is required?" Mozzie thought for sure he could see the color of Peter's face deepening as he spoke. "Get! The! Money!" Peter growled out each word slowly.

Mozzie dived under the bed and pulled out the way too big skater shoes he'd been hanging onto since day one. Peter hadn't seen him bring them back from the boat shed but there they were, under the bed where they always sat, before the running away caper. The boy dug his hand into one of the shoes and pulled out a fist full of notes and coins. He passed them over to Peter who counted up the bootie. "Four dollars and seventy six cents?"

"Yeah, well, I may have made some other purchases from the internet store."

"Get! Them!" More slow talking. This wasn't going down well!

Mozzie slid the door across on the built-in wardrobe and reached in a retrieve one pair of night vision goggles and one polka-dot bow tie. He passed the items to Peter who held up the bow tie and looked quizzically at the young boy. Mozzie explained, "Ah…it's Neal's. He wanted it. He's got this thing for bow ties. And yes, the guy just doesn't sell electronics. He can get a hold of well almost anything you…Ah anyway, what were we talking about?"

"Let's see…You stealing wallets and purses while you were at the mall with Elizabeth. You going on the internet and ordering stolen property behind our backs. You planting a listening bug on our dining room table so you could listen to private conversations. And yes, you were about to explain what hair brain idea you had when you took off, at night, with a five year old boy who was coming down with something, to go and live in a decrepit, rat infested boat shed, while El and I spent four days searching, worrying, crying and wondering what the hell happened that made you think living out of a dumpster was a better deal than you were getting here!" Peter had depleted his supply of patience and composure. The last statement was shouted.

Mozzie immediately became defensive. "We weren't going to be living here any more anyway Peter, so what did it matter? That's why we decided to leave. We left before Rachel came to collect us to take us to the Connors. They sounded okay, in fact they sounded an awful lot better than anywhere else we'd ever been but what was to stop them deciding they'd had enough, just like you and Elizabeth."

"We never said we'd had enough Mozzie." Peter appeared offended.

"And yet you had Rachel look for a new place for us to live."

"No Mozzie. Rachel was doing her job. When she sent you boys home with me that first night, I told Rachel I would look after you until she could find you a nice place to live. I didn't want you having to go to Juvenile Hall 'til so I said I would take care of you until she had a suitable placement for you. I told you that remember?"

Mozzie nodded. It felt like so long ago now.

"El and I weren't looking at fostering children, and when I brought you home here, I was expecting it to be just for a day or two. But like everything in life, it didn't pan out how we were expecting and before long, El and I had our hearts captivated by you two little moppets. When Rachel came over that night, she told us all about the Connors so we would know in our hearts as well as in our heads that no matter what family she found for you guys, it would never be the right one because we wanted Neal and you to stay with us, forever." Mozzie wiped at the tears that had begun to spill down the side of his cheeks. "Now I'm guessing you pulled the plug before you heard that part, am I right?" Mozzie nodded. "And if you had listened to the full story, or if you hadn't eavesdropped in the first place, then El and I wouldn't of had four incredibly emotional days going out of our mind with worry, Neal would have got the medical attention he needed days ago, and you…you wouldn't be getting the spanking of your life you're about to receive over my knee."

"Uh…Is that really necessary?...You don't maybe think we've all been through enough already? Maybe we could just call it a night and work out some other 'less painful' punishment tomorrow?"

Peter beckoned with his finger and Mozzie grudgingly came and stood at his feet, yet again. The kid took off his glasses and put them on the bed. His eyes were already filled with tears. Peter put his hands the boy's shoulders. "Tomorrow, you are going to sit in that corner," Peter indicated the writing desk, "and list for me all the rules that a nine year old should follow and if I see that even one rule has been left off the list, I will remind you while you are bent over my knee. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." Peter lifted the boy up and lay him across his lap. Without further delay, he pulled Mozzie's pajama bottoms down to his knees and began the spanking. He covered every area of the little butt several times including a number of particularly hard swats to his sit spot, ensuring that tomorrow when he sat down at the desk to write out the rules, he'd have a lasting reminder to help enforce the lesson. Mozzie made no effort to control the tears. He cried out for Peter to stop as the spanking continued.

"No stealing, no running away, no going behind our backs, no dragging Neal off and putting him in danger, no using the computer, no leaving Elizabeth's side while out at the shops, no more jumping to conclusions before checking out the facts in a responsible manner." Peter enunciated each rule with a swat to the upper thighs. He'd rather the boy sore and sorry for a couple of days than in trouble with the law or worse. Peter landed three more solid swats before reaching down to pull up the pajama pants. Mozzie lay over Peter's knee, sobbing too hard to notice. Eventually, Peter lifted the boy up and cradled him in his arms. They stayed like that for ages 'til the crying subsided and Mozzie was finally able to blabber out, "I'm sorry Peter. I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble."

"Hey, it's okay big guy. Little boys are supposed to cause trouble. That's their job in life. You just took it to a whole new level. Next time you're over my knee, I want it to be because you stuck a toad in El's sock drawer or you put tomato ketchup in your brother's shoe."

"Peter, I don't think that kind of advice is in the parental handbook. Maybe I should buy you a copy." Mozzie wiped some stay tears off onto his pajama shirt.

"No. No more buying things, for me, for you, for anyone. You're banned from buying remember. That should be on the list of rules."

"Got it. Rule number eight. No buying." Mozzie managed a small smile.

"Good. Now how about you and I go down to the basement to get the spare mattress? Neal's spending the night in our room and I'm sure you'll want to be close to keep an eye out if he starts to go down hill again overnight."

"Yeah. I guess I should do that. At the very least I can take care of Sunny for him while he's susceptible to throwing up. Plus, I'm sure you and Elizabeth will get a better night's rest knowing there's a third set of eyes in the room watching over him."

"You're a good friend Moz." Peter ruffled the moppet's hair. "Common sport, let's get your bed set up."

Mozzie followed Peter out the door and took the opportunity to rub his hands long and hard over his stinging butt. "Peter?"

"Yeah, big guy."

"Do you think we could bring up some spare cushions? You know, just in case young Neal wants to do some drawings at the writing desk tomorrow?"


	16. Chapter 16

The littlest moppet poked his head out into the hallway. _All clear!_ He carefully pushed open the door to the master bedroom and stepped out, scanning in both directions, listening for the tell-tale sounds of an adult in the vicinity. It was all very quiet so he tip-toed down to his own bedroom, dressed in one of El's t-shirts. Throughout the night, his fever had broke and he'd gone through a couple of sets of his pajamas and at least one set of Mozzie's as El and Peter continued to peel the damp shirts and pants off his sweating body. He stuck his head in through the door and spotted Mozzie standing over by the writing desk. The older boy had the chair pushed off to the side and was bent forward with his forehead resting on the desk. Neal rubbed at his blurry eyes, trying to work out what his friend was doing in such a ridiculous looking position. He quietly moved into the room and made his way over to the corner.

"Watcha doin Moz?"

"Whaaaa! Far out man!" Mozzie sprung up and with him came a single sheet of paper still stuck to his forehead. He immediately pulled it off. "You startled me kid." Mozzie took a calming breath. "And what are you doing out of bed anyway? Don't let Elizabeth catch you."

"She's downdares. Watcha witing?" Neal indicated the piece of paper Mozzie had returned to the desk.

"Ah, Peter said I had to write out all the rules you and I need to follow being 'kids' and all. But it's not easy, cause I'm not allowed to leave any out. If I do, he's going to remind me in a very displeasing manner so I've been standing here trying to think if I have them all or not."

Neal looked at Mozzie, then at the empty chair off to the side, then back to Mozzie. He was confused. "Arwnt you awoud to sit down?"

"Uh, yeah, but I thought I'd stretch my legs for a little while. Sitting is overrated you know?"

Neal bought the cover up, nodding his head in agreement. "I know, ovewwated jest wike sweeping."

"Yeah, I hear you kiddo. Anyway, I have to be careful with this list. I don't want to add anything that Peter hasn't already thought of, don't want to give us any additional rules. Like we haven't got enough already!"

"Wet me see." Neal took the list off Mozzie. He began to shake his head as he scanned down the rules. "It's a big wist Moz."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"I dowt wike this wist. Wet's make a dibberent one."

Neal tore another sheet from the note pad and began writing. His penman ship was perfect, unlike his speech. Mozzie read out the rules as Neal scribed. "No having to brush our teeth every night. A couple of times a week will suffice... Chocolate cake only should be served at dinner. Any adult wanting to eat vegetables and salad should be sat in the corner where no one has to see them eat." Neal chuckled at that thought. "Movie night will now be every night except Friday. Friday should be reserved for exploring the town... No more showers, no more baths. We're clean guys, a small amount of warm water splashed over our face once a week is more that enough."

"I got one. How bout Pweter's not awoud to bwing any mean doctas in ta house eber." Neal proceeded to draw beside the rule, a little sketch of El swinging her hairbrush at Peter's butt. He drew in a speech bubble with Peter saying, 'Oww! Oww! Owwww!'

Mozzie laughed, "Yeah, and if he does, Elizabeth's going to whack his butt. Great kiddo. That's my favorite so far."

"Not mine." Both boys spun at the sound of the deep voice behind them.

"Uh….Hi Peter. I was… I was just checking the rule list to see if I had everything."

"Yes, I can see that." Peter raised his eyebrows at Neal.

"Ah, I was jest on da way to the barfroom." The little boy dropped the pencil back onto the table like it had just zapped him.

"Sure you were." Peter reached down and lifted the youngster onto his hip. "Come on, let's get you back to bed before El finds out. If she catches you running around out here it won't me who's yelling out, 'Oww!' Let me see the list, big guy." Peter reached back towards the table with his free hand.

Mozzie gulped and handed over the second list. Peter rolled his eyes and handed it back. "No the real list, you silly dill."

"Oh." Mozzie picked up the original and passed it hesitantly to Peter. "But it's not finished."

Peter scanned the piece of paper then frowned at the older child. "I'll say it's not."

Mozzie bit his lower lip and hung his head. Neal looked worriedly down at his friend as he leaned in closer to Peter's shoulder.

Peter placed the rule list back on the table. "Pick up that pencil young man." Mozzie quickly obeyed turning towards the table, half expecting a swat to come his way at any moment. "Now, you've left off the most important rule of all. Start writing these words – 'No matter what I do, no matter what happens, Elizabeth and Peter will always,' write always in capitals please, 'will always care about me and will love me forever,' forever should also be in capitals." Mozzie finished writing and put the pencil down, still facing the table.

"Mozzie."

"Yes sir?"

"Turn and face me and read me that last rule please."

Mozzie lifted his glasses and wiped his sleeve across his wet eyes before turning and facing Peter and Neal. His voice cracked as he read, "No matter what I do, no matter what happens, Elizabeth and Peter will 'always' care about me and will love me 'forever.'"

"Good. Now you remember that young man. I want you to take the list downstairs and stick it on the fridge…Oh and while you're there, would you mind bringing me up that last piece of chocolate cake."

"Hey!" Neal lifted his head off Peter's shoulder and gave him a very offended look.

"Fine. Mozzie will you please bring up three pieces. I may have been mistaken about there only being one piece left." Peter addressed the little boy on his hip, "But medicine first little man."

Neal sighed before calling out after his friend, "Fowget it Moz, I not hungwy any morw!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:** Thank you to all those kind and thoughtful readers that left very sweet reviews for Moppets. FanFic dot Net seems to have disabled the usual route to reply to reviews so it has been a bit trickier this time round getting back to those who have left messages. Some readers have a bar on their homepage that does not allow private messages to be sent so my apologies for not being able to thank you directly for your positive encouragement throughout. Once again, it has been a thrill for me to hear how much readers have enjoyed following the adventures of li'l Neal and Mozzie.

**MOPPETS **_For my friend K' Sprite, the OP of this prompt on the ff-exchange :)_

Peter sat at the corner table of one of their favorite cafés looking at his watch. Ten after…They were late! Everything took so much longer these days so it was no surprise that Elizabeth and the boys were running behind schedule for lunch. He hadn't met El for lunch since that eventful day more than six weeks ago when two little moppets first stepped into their lives. Peter didn't know if it was coincidence or not that the place they had chosen to meet was the very same café they'd been dining at when Neal walked past and lifted El's purse, setting in motion the series of events that had led to the file he now held in his hand. Certainly the table was a deliberate choice. El always liked the corner table.

Peter was snapped out of his reflections when a child suddenly appeared and jumped into one of the empty chairs at the table. "Can we order already, I'm starving!"

"Mozzie," Peter scolded, "El and Neal haven't even sat down yet. Hop back up and try that one again, this time with some manners, please." He gently pulled the boy up and out of the chair.

Mozzie rolled his eyes as he took a couple of steps away from the table before spinning around and walking back again. "Good afternoon, Peter."

"Hello Mozzie."

"How has your day been?" The boy looked over the top of his spectacles.

"Not too bad so far, thank you for asking. Please, sit down." Peter indicated the same chair the boy had sat in the first time around. "What have you been up to?"

Mozzie slid into the chair. "Not much, but I'm starving. Any chance we can order already?"

It was Peter's turn to roll his eyes. He would have had something else to say but El arrived at the table, cutting short the impromptu lesson in manners.

Peter stood and pulled out El's chair. "Hi hon. How did the trip go on the subway?"

"Oh, not too bad. It was quite a hike from the station but we did a bit of speed walking so we didn't have to keep you waiting too long." El was a little out of breath as she spoke.

"You shouldn't have hurried." Peter looked behind El. "Where's Neal?"

"Right here." El turned to point beside her but there was nothing but empty space. "He was right beside me a second ago."

"Don't worry." Peter was trying to convince himself as much as El. "He'll be around here somewhere."

"He stopped to try out the hats a half a block back." Without looking, Mozzie informed the adults from behind one of the menus.

"Yeah, I can see him." Peter pointed back down the sidewalk. "I'll go fetch him."

"No, please, allow me." El moved back in the direction she had come from. She had that determined look on her face, the one that Peter knew better than to argue with.

"Neal!" The little boy looked up from under a tartan beret and grinned at El, only to drop the smile upon seeing the look on her face.

"Neal, how many times have I told you not to wander off?" El took the hat off the moppet's head and placed it back on the stand.

"Today?"

El didn't bother justifying Neal's question with a reply, instead she took him by the wrist, lifted his arm and planted a very hard swat to his backside. She held him in that position while she asked, "Now, young man, will you be needing more or have you decided that you won't wander off any more today?"

"Nuh uh. Won't need any morw weminders Wizzybif." Neal shook his head very seriously.

"Good." El released his wrist. "Now let's go join the others for lunch."

After the orders were placed, Peter turned to the youngsters and spoke in a quiet, serious tone. "Mozzie, Neal, El and I wanted to talk to you both about something very important today." Both boys froze, their immediate thoughts racing to work out just what exactly it was that they'd been caught out with now. Peter noticed the looks but filed the information away for further investigation at a later date. Guilty looks like that could have only meant one thing – the boys had something else they were trying to hide. _Unbelievable!_ "No relax, you're not in trouble." _Yet!_

Mozzie let out a long breath, "Yeah, we didn't think so."

"I did, I fought you might hab found out bout…"

"Neal! Peter said to relax!" Mozzie interrupted the confession. "We don't want to spoil this fabulous lunch date do we?"

"Noooo, Moz."

Peter shook his head, trying very unsuccessfully not to get sidetracked. "What we wanted to talk to you both about was… adoption. Do you know what adoption is?"

"Yes, of course we do Peter."

"And you, little one?"

"Ob couwse, Pweter."

"Sweetie, what do you think adoption is?" El put her hand on the little boy's head and twisted it in her direction.

"Doption is when you get to lib wit someone foreber."

"That's right kiddo. Now you see this file here?" Peter put his finger on the pale blue folder sitting in the middle of the table. "These are some documents to do with adoption." Peter looked at each little boy in turn. "Yours Mozzie and yours Neal…El and I would love it very much if you two boys became part of our family and lived with us forever. If we adopted you, you would no longer be foster children, you'd be our children."

"Peter and I have already decided what we would like to see happen, but we need both of you to think about what you want." El paused waiting for the information to sink in. "If you decide that you would like to be adopted, Rachel Hammond will talk to you, a judge will need to interview you to make sure you know what you're getting into and then Peter and I would sign lots and lots of papers to make it all official. But the next step is up to you boys, deciding if that's what you want to happen."

"Can I ask a question?"

"Of course, Mozzie. Ask as many as you like."

"If you adopt us, will everything stay like it is now?"

"Absolutely. What you see now is what you get. But we don't want you making any decisions today, we just want you to start thinking about it okay? What about you Neal? Would you like to ask anything?"

"Ah… can I hab my cookie now Wizzybif?"

"After you've eaten 'all' your lunch sweetie. Remember I said you could have the cookie only after you've had something substantial."

"Yeah, I wemeber." Neal groaned as he drummed his fingernails on the table.

"Look Peter, Neal and I have already thought about it, we've discussed it, we've considered it and we've analyzed it. If you want to put some type of cooling off period time frame on it then that's understandable but the answer will still be the same at the end of the day as it is now."

"Which is?" El asked hopefully.

"Well of course we want to be adopted. It's what we want, it's what we've always wanted. We already feel a part of the family. It feels right. We never had any doubts about it ourselves." Peter gave the boy a pointed look. "We'll okay, maybe a couple but in our defense, we wouldn't have suspected a conspiracy if you hadn't been all secretive with Rachel and her 'acceptable placements' file."

"Mozzie I have one word for you, eavesdropping!"

The older boy looked slightly guilty and quickly changed the subject. "May I be excused?"

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I need to use the bathroom. I've been drinking all this water on the table while I've been waiting for my meal," Mozzie turned back in the direction of the kitchen, "I could have made it myself by now, and anyway, now I'm going to bust!"

"Well quick then, I'll go with you." Peter hopped up, pulling on Mozzie's arm.

"I don't need a babysitter Peter, I'll be fine, it's like twenty feet between here and the men's room. Nothing could possibly happen to me."

"I'm not worried about you, young man. I'm worried about the guy inside sitting at the corner booth. He's on his first date and when he goes to pay the bill and finds his wallet missing, well let's just say, I don't need you to be considered the number one suspect."

"Great, so now I have a shadow, anytime I go near a group of people?"

"Pretty much buddy boy. You brought it on yourself so no complaining." Peter pulled the older boy off towards the inner doors.

El studied the little chap coloring in the napkin across from her. It was quite surreal considering how they'd first met in this very same spot as victim and thief and now, several weeks later here they were as mother and son. Fate sure had a strange way of bringing about that which was meant to be. El reached across the table for her glass of water and in doing so knocked her handbag off onto the pavement.

Neal caught the mishap and jumped up to retrieve the bag from off the ground. "Why thank you young man." El repeated the phrase she'd used all those weeks ago during their first encounter.

Neal smiled up, the same smile he'd given that day, right down to the interesting expression El couldn't put her finger on at the time.

"Neal," El placed a hand on top of the little boy's arm. "Do you remember when we first met?"

Neal nodded.

"Do you remember when you handed me back my bag and we smiled at each other."

"Yes."

It was crazy asking a five year old to recall something that happened six weeks earlier but she'd learned that Neal was no ordinary five year old. "Neal when you looked at me that day, it was like you wanted to ask me something. Do you remember what that was?"

Neal nodded.

"Can you tell me now sweetie?"

The little boy looked off into the distance as he recalled the moment. "I dowt wemember my mommy, Wizzybif."

El showed no outward signs of the surprise that statement caused for her on the inside. "That's understandable, sweetie. You were just a baby when you last saw her."

"Sometimes I magine hew. She'd be nice, hab darwk curwy hairw wike mine. She would hab blue eyes wike me."

"There's a very good chance you got your gorgeous looks from her sweetie."

"Well, when I saw you dat day, I fought you wooked wike wot my mommy would wook wike."

"Oh sweetie, is that what you were thinking?" El wanted to wrap the irresistible little moppet up in her arms and never let him go.

"I wanded to awsk you…" Neal stopped, unsure if he should continue.

El understood. "You wanted to ask if I was your mommy?"

Neal shrugged, "Maaybee. Maaybee I wanded to awsk if you would be my…Neber mind, it was silly."

"Neal, it's not silly." El pulled the little moppet up from his chair and sat him on her lap. "Besides, it's not too late to ask. You didn't get a chance last time but here we are again. Now's your chance."

Neal leaned in against El's chest. "Wizzybif… will you be my mommy?"

"Neal, my beautiful boy, there wouldn't be anything in this whole world that would make me happier than to be your mommy." She squeezed him tight till he finally pulled away.

"Wizzybif…"

"Yes sweetie?"

"I need to use the barfroom too."

El chuckled while lifting the little boy off her knee and pointing in the direction of the men's room. "Hurry and you'll catch up with Peter and Mozzie."

Neal jogged in the direction the others had headed but stopped a short distance away and turned back. He lifted his bony little arm and gave her a sweet wave before calling out, "Lub you Mommy."

*** THE END ***

**AUTHOR'S NOTE PART 2:** Moppets began as a trade on the FanFiction Exchange Program over on Live Journal, ( the - ff -exchange dot live journal dot com ) created by my friend, the amazingly talented Kinky Sprite. We're always looking for others to join in the fic trading and perhaps you have an idea for a fic you'd like to see written, in exchange for filling someone else's story prompt. It's fun to write a story but it's also a real treat to have one written especially for you! K S wrote a wonderfully touching Peter/Neal Father/Son Trilogy in return for this Moppets Story. To encourage others, I've listed a couple of prompts to trade for more subsequent Moppet stories, such as Moppets go to school, Moppets find a gun, Moppets get adopted, plus the beginning of an idea I had for Moppets visit the Bureau (posted below). Maybe you have an idea of your own. Consider coming and having a look if you're keen. Cheers!

MOPPETS VISIT THE BUREAU

(Chapter 1)

Peter slid his house key into the lock and opened the outer front door. He smiled to himself while thinking how good it was to be home. He missed his family while at work and it took him a fair effort to stay focused on the white collar cases rather than thinking about what everyone was getting up to without him during the day. He stepped inside the inner door and placed his briefcase on the ground. The house was quiet, way too quiet! And by the way, where were his welcome home hugs? El was in the kitchen, he could tell from the clanging of the saucepan lids and from the distinct aroma of slow cooked beef casserole waffling through. Perhaps the boys were off having their shower. El had this thing about them coming to the dinner table all clean and germ free. Peter thought it was bordering on pedantic but he let it be and didn't interfere. The agent stepped into the living area and, being the seasoned FBI investigator that he was, immediately noticed something amiss. Two dining chairs, oddly placed, facing two separate corners, each holding one moppet a piece. Peter hadn't seen this configuration before but he guessed it must be some type of 'naughty chair' set up. He looked over at Mozzie. The boy was sitting on the chair, his legs up and folded on the seat, elbows resting on his thighs like he was in some type of meditation pose. "Hello Mozzie."

"Hi Peter." The nine year old didn't turn around or move from his contemplative position.

Peter turned to the other corner. The littlest moppet was kneeling on the ground, his arms resting on the seat of the chair. He peered up at Peter through the gap in frame at the back of the dining chair. "Hello Neal." A short time passed but no reply. Peter waited a moment before trying again. "Hello Neal."

"I not awoud to peak."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Oh, fair enough." Continuing on through to the kitchen, he thought he'd better get the lowdown from the boss first, before any further investigating took place.

"Hi honey, how was your day?" El greeted her husband.

"Very satisfying. We finally made significant progress on the Watershed Case this afternoon. Should be able to make an arrest by the end of the week at the latest. And tell me El, how was your afternoon? When I called you at lunch, all was quiet. No injuries, no illness, no serious infractions so I'm guessing the crime took place sometime in the last couple of hours?"

"About an hour ago."

"I see. So who, what and HOW!" The last word was shouted by the agent as an extremly strange little creature came padding into the kitchen. "What the?" Peter was trying not to shout. "That's not…"

"Satchmo?" El nodded confirming all Peter's fears. His poor little puppy had been turned into some designer art project.

"Yeah, I was thinking maybe, but Satchmo's not fluorescent green and candy pink, plus, the last time I looked he had hair on his legs."

"I wasn't sure if you'd notice." El gave Peter a cheeky grin. "Poor pup's had a bit of a makeover courtesy of one of our little moppets."

"A bit! He couldn't look any more different if he'd morphed into a mountain goat!"

El chuckled, "You don't think that's a slight exaggeration, hon? Plus, Satchmo doesn't seem to care. I think he fancies all the attention he's been getting since the transformation."

"Perhaps if we showed him what he looked like in the mirror he might care." The puppy was licking Peter's shoes, oblivious of the fact that the conversation from above was centred on his appearance. "So which one of the delinquents did the dirty deed, as if I couldn't guess already?"

"Well, neither of the boys have owned up to it yet?"

"Really?" Peter raised his eyebrows as he swiped a finger across the lemon meringue pudding set aside for desert. "Hence the 'naughty chairs'?"

"Yeah. I told them they could stay there until either I finished cooking the dinner or you arrived home from work. Whichever came first. And since I'm still cooking the veggies, the file for their latest criminal exploit has landed squarely on your desk, Agent Burke." Elizabeth winked at her husband. "Lucky you!"

"El, it wouldn't be the case that you deliberately delayed mashing the potatoes so you could pass up on having to handle the investigation… would it?"

"Oh please, nothing so sinister. I just had the steamer on too low by accident. Must have bumped the dial when I removed it from the cupboard earlier."

"Of course." Peter didn't buy it for a second. "So how long till dinner?"

"About twenty minutes."

"Well I guess I better go and deal with the architect of this particular offense."

"Good luck."

"Like I need it," Peter shot over his shoulder as he pushed open the kitchen door.

"Right! Front and centre!" Peter snapped his fingers and the two little mischief makers sprang from their naughty chairs and placed themselves before the agent. He took a moment to study the expressions on the youthful little faces before him. One bored and offended, the other, guilty as all hell. "So boys, which one of you decided our poor little puppy needed a cut and colour?" There was no response to his enquiry, only squirming and sighing. "Okay, let's try this, I'm going to ask the question one more time and then I'm going to count backwards from three. When I get to zero there are going to be some serious consequences for refusing to answer. Understand?"

Both boys nodded but remained silent.

"Perfect, now, which of you painted Satchmo and cut the hair on his legs?" Peter paused before he began the count. "Three."

Neal looked unhappily over at his older friend before gazing up at Peter with hurt puppy dog eyes. Peter crossed his arms and frowned at the littlest moppet. "Two."

Mozzie put his hands into his pockets and dropped his gaze to the floor. He was better off if he didn't have to look in Peter's direction. It wasn't a great stretch of the imagination to consider what 'serious consequences' meant. He glanced across at the kid, squirming and sweating beside him._ Unreal._ He sure had a lot to learn about withstanding the pressures of an interrogation!

"One."

"Fine!" Mozzie sighed deeply and looked Peter in the eye. "Whatever. I did it okay. I thought the pup was in need of a change of style. Why be boring? Variety is the spice of life right?"

Peter pressed his lips together, not at all impressed with Mozzie's confession, stepping forward to land a very hard swat to the boy's backside.

"Yeowww!" Mozzie yelped as he reached back to rub at his butt.

Peter pointed a stern finger at the older boy's face. "That was for lying to me." Peter then stepped over to Neal and planted an equally solid smack to his little butt. The youngster cried out and also rubbed at the sting. "And that," Peter pointed, "was for letting him! Mozzie?"

"Yes sir?"

"Go and see if your mother needs a hand in the kitchen please."

"Yes sir."

"And Mozzie, while you are there I want you to write out rule number seven, twenty times."

"Twenty?" Mozzie groaned and was about to argue the sentence when he thought better of it. "Twenty? Sure, no problem." The nine year old trotted off to the kitchen leaving Agent Burke to deal with the pint-sized perp.

Peter took the little boy's arm and led him over to the couch. He sat down and put Neal on his lap. "Now little one, you ready to tell me what happened."

Neal shrugged.

"You know you are not making this any easier for yourself, kiddo."

"But I don't want to get in twouble." Neal fiddled with the buttons on Peter's shirt.

"Well perhaps you should have considered that before you shaved off puppy's leg hair and painted him in fluoro green."

"I wanted to see what he would wook wike."

"Did you know you would get in trouble for doing that to Satchmo?"

"Ah, my not sure."

"Okay then, let me put it this way, if I had been sitting in the room with you would you still have done it?"

"Noooo."

"Why not?"

"Cause you would hab said it was naughty and got cwanky with me."

"That's right. So you did know it was wrong?"

Neal's little face dropped and his bottom lip quivered. Yep, he knew it was wrong alright.

"Neal, why didn't you own up when El asked you earlier?"

"Cause she would hab macked my bottom and it would hab herwt."

"Yeah, but now you're still in trouble and to make it worse, you were happy to just stand back and let Mozzie take the blame. I'm very disappointed in you young man."

Neal's face dropped and the tears that had been threatening came pouring out in a deluge. "I sowwy. I didna mean to get Moz in twoble."

"Hey kiddo. I know you didn't but by not telling the truth, that's exactly what happened. Mozzie was prepared to take the blame for something you did. Did Mozzie have any part in you painting or cutting Satchmo's hair?"

"Noooo. He wab weading his book."The little boy sniffled while rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

"I see. So your best friend, who was innocently reading a book while you were into mischief is made to sit in a chair and face the corner because you won't own up when El asks which one of you made a mess of Satchmo?"

"I widn't mean too," the youngster babbled into his hands.

"Well young man, I think you know that you did the wrong thing by decorating Satchmo." Peter paused. Now for the hard part. "You know what I have to do now young man?"

Through the tears, the youngster pleaded, "No pwease. I won't pwaint Satchie again eber. I don't want a panking."

Neal's protest landed on deaf ears as he was lifted up and over Peter's knee. The little boy continued to cry out as several swats were landed over the top of his pajama bottoms. The wacks weren't particularly hard, just enough to reinforce the message Peter had already discussed with the little boy. "When you've done something wrong, own up." Whack. "Good friends don't get their buddies in trouble." Whack. "No more decorating the dog." Whack.

Peter lifted the weeping child up into his arms and cuddled him against his chest. "Okay young man, I believe you owe a couple of apologies."

Neal wiped his eyes and nose on Peter's shirt. The agent rolled his eyes. How many times had the little boy done that to one of his work shirts? "I sowwy dadda."

Peter smiled. "I didn't mean me little one. Your mommy and brother are the ones who need an apology." He lifted Neal down off his lap and pushed him gently in the direction of the kitchen but the little chap spun back and tilted his head in thought.

"I pwabably should pologize to Satchie too?"

"Good idea buddy." The agent chuckled and wondered how the hell he was going to turn the art project back into the family pet!


End file.
